


Carte Noir

by 96jeu



Series: l'argent est roi [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Also everyone is gay, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Daddy Issues, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Has Issues, Family Issues, Financial Issues, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, jun is really protective, minghao is just confused, mingyu is a cocky asswipe, shifting point of views, wonwoo is smart but emotionally weak
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-05-31 10:38:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 63,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15117632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/96jeu/pseuds/96jeu
Summary: In which Mingyu is a rich heir and Wonwoo is a broke college student, yet they still find each other and fall. Quite literally.





	1. La chance et son antonyme

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mingyu is clumsy. Wonwoo is poor. Accidents occur.

**“wish I could say something that doesn’t sound insane,**

**but lately I don’t trust my brain.”**

 

Mingyu has it easy.

Being born into a rich family had him growing up from a boy who never knew the meaning of ‘no’, to a man who doesn’t have the word ‘impossible’ in his dictionary. And no, he isn’t inept when it comes to vocabulary; it’s just, for him, there is nothing a little bit –or in his case, a whole fucking lot– of money can’t do.

But, of course, he doesn’t rely solely on the seemingly never-ending amount of zeroes in his bank account, because he wasn’t just born rich; he was born smart, talented, _tall,_ and handsome, too.

Talk about injustice.

And, though he has the ability to study anywhere he wants –even in the university that their family owns– by buying them out, the boy still chose to apply to one of the most prestigious schools in the country to take a bloody entrance exam. Partly because he just really wanted to try, partly because he wanted to waste a bit of their money; but mostly because he’s determined to prove to the cocky, self-righteous bastards who discredit his abilities just because of his fortune, that they’re wrong.

Which makes him an equally cocky, self-righteous bastard; but nobody needs to know that.

So, he’s currently standing on a huge university quadrangle, trying to figure out how to get to his college building by deciphering a map handed out by some administrators at the gate upon entrance; all the while a couple of girls ogle at him because, who could blame them?  Mingyu looked like he came straight from a VOGUE magazine cover, all perfectly angled and tall enough to climb; Mingyu’s used to being the center of attraction, though, so he pays them no attention.

Apparently, he doesn’t pay attention to where he’s walking either.

And I wish I could say that he’s used to walking around blindly as he is with being the center of attraction, but he isn’t.

So as Mingyu struts his way around, walking straight as the map directs, turning the school paths into a runway without even looking; he’s unaware that he isn’t only walking towards his building, but also impending disaster.

You see, Mingyu was born with privilege that can only be fawned over by other people, he’s presented with advantages in the looks department, smarts department, heck, any department you can think of!

However, as we’ve been told by everyone we know, nobody’s perfect; Mingyu certainly isn’t a nobody, and he carried at least one disadvantage.

Though he was born with all the good things in this world…

Mingyu was also born clumsy.

(You can put two and two together, right?)

 

* * *

 

 

Wonwoo wouldn’t say that he’s unlucky. He’s just goddamn unfortunate.

Don’t get me wrong, he isn’t a victim of some tragic life event like being orphaned at a young age, no, his parents are still intact and nagging his sorry ass every week once he visits home for the weekends; and he isn’t some sort of cripple with a terrible terminal disease that would one day take his life unexpectedly, the only problem with his body would probably be that his eyes were shitty with seeing despite it being the only job it has to do, and the fact that he can’t keep running to save his life. He wasn’t exactly trained to endure extreme physical exertions; his only exercise is walking to his mini fridge to get a freaking cola. So what makes him so unfortunate?

Perhaps it was the fact that his family, so in correlation, he as well, was barely getting by, because of reasons he doesn’t like talking about.

And something bad just seemingly happens to him at least thrice a week; he’s already spilled laboratory chemicals two days ago, which leaves him two more strikes.

One of which comes to him in the form of too much sunlight over his face, and the fact that it was already 10:30, and he just woke up, and it wouldn’t have been a problem… if he didn’t have an 11:00 class, and God forbid, that class was calculus.

His professor was ruthless and he isn’t exactly good at the subject, so imagine how panicked he was upon seeing the time, immediately jumping out of bed and bolting to the bathroom to wash up, cursing at his roommate on the way for not waking him, and almost cracking his skull open after slipping on the tiles (most of the time, Wonwoo’s thankful that his roommate doesn’t meddle with his business, but would it kill him to care once in a while? He did know Wonwoo’s schedule, Christ.).

It takes Wonwoo about 15 minutes to get to school, 10 if he runs; which leaves him 20 minutes to get ready.

So, with the ‘not-born-to-run-around’ thing established, you can already tell how bad this could be.

And it’s going bad.

Wonwoo finds himself running the school quadrangle while holding a sloppily covered thermos of ice cold chocolate drink in his hand, his sweater on backwards, hair still wet from the shower, six minutes to spare before the bell rings on him, and 400 meters still in between him and his college building.

He’s trying to keep his cool, but his own body fails him, becoming a panting mess as he curses at the chocolate that started staining the sleeve of his shirt from it sloshing around with his movement.

He takes a look at the stains, “Fuck.” Why the hell did he even think that it was a good idea to bring it with him, anyway? God, he’s on a dumb streak today.

Ignoring the red of a stop sign, he runs to the other side of the street, already aware that there weren’t any incoming vehicles, not really caring if there were.

To a bystander, he probably looks like an overdosed mental patient running from his nurses–one who successfully infiltrated a private university. But he was wearing a sweater which displays the university name in big bold letters, on his back, because his shirt was on _backwards_ (shit, it’s an embarrassing sight even for onlookers), along with his college lanyard; dragging the student body’s name to dirt.

It was _that_ bad.

But Wonwoo was ready to ignore the shame in favor of getting to class; he won’t be seeing any of these people anymore, anyway. And if he does, he doubts he’ll remember them, plus he doesn’t care about the opinion of other people if _they_ remember.

He sprints on, past the old Corinthian columns of their library and the massive university seal, onto the path leading to his building.

 _Holy shit,_ he thinks, _just a few more turns, and I’ll be there with two minutes to spare. Thank you, Mr. God, sir._

He can almost feel his legs give out on him, but he can’t give up now, he’ll just let this be the compensation for all of the workouts he’s supposed to do for this month, he’ll be laying the fuck down and eating his weight on chips for the next semester if it means he gets to class on time today.

“Wonwoo!” He hears someone call from behind him just as he was about to make a right toward his building, he turns around and squints, but everything is a blurry mess to him; and he realizes that, _fuck,_ he even left his glasses back at the dorm!

_Oh, come on!_

He jogs backwards as he tries to look for who called for him, trying to find a familiar face, even when he can’t see anybody’s face, because _everyone’s_ blurry _._

He gives up and turns back around to run, but he didn’t know that there was someone directly behind him; someone who _also_ wasn’t looking where he’s going.

Two people who don’t look at where they’re going usually means a set up for disaster.

“Hey! Watch out!” It’s the same voice that called out his name earlier. But he was too late, Wonwoo was about to have his most unfortunate encounter today.

The force of their impact sends the guy from behind Wonwoo staggering backward, before he loses his balance and falls, taking Wonwoo down with him on the school ground.

It went too fast, and Wonwoo felt his drink fly from his hand to the grass of his side.

He doesn’t know the amount of damage he’s caused so he closes his eyes, until he hears the bell ring and they fly open on their own.

 _Well_ , there goes his chance of _not_ being late.

Upon opening his eyes though, he sees a boy underneath him, and his mouth falls open because, _holy shit,_ Wonwoo has never been straight his entire life and the fact just seems to make itself more obvious right now.

The boy had hair the color of ash, eyes closed as he winces, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth that sport canines a bit longer than the rest. His lips were a nice shade of red and his nose was pink at its tip and has a high bridge. He has such a pretty face.

“Ah… My back.” The boy groans, and _oh_ , he has a nice voice as well… Wonwoo’s positively whipped.

_Shit, it’s only been eight seconds._

When the boy opens his eyes though, the look he sends Wonwoo terrifies him. He looks _livid_.

“Watch where you’re going, will you!” The boy screams underneath him, making Wonwoo scramble to get off of him, but stop in his tracks when he sees his drink container spilling its contents on the grass.

The only lucky thing that happened to him today is that the chocolate didn’t stain any of their clothes.

“Dude!” The boy screams at him before pushing him off, standing up to his full height and glaring at him.

Oh my god, he’s tall too!

And he looks _expensive,_ he’s wearing a brown trenchcoat with a striped white shirt tucked into jeans underneath, all of which look like they’re from designer brands. Wonwoo suddenly feels overly conscious of the small brown dots on his sleeves.

“What are you staring at?” The boy screams at him again, his brows meeting, “Aren’t you supposed to say sorry?”

“Excuse me?” Wonwoo was taken aback, why is he supposed to say sorry when _he_ caused them to fall? “ _You_ bumped into _me_ and pulled me down when you fell, you’re the one who’s supposed to say sorry!”

The boy scoffs at him, “I never apologize, certainly not to people who don’t deserve it.”

Wonwoo stands up, brushing off the dust from his pants, looking the boy in the eye and seeing that he wasn’t that much smaller than the boy. He gets a confidence boost and starts poking at the boy’s chest, “You even caused me to be late for my first class, asshole!”

“Don’t touch me!” The boy swats Wonwoo’s hand away, “And you’re in college, why do you care so much about being punctual, anyway? Overachiever.”

It’s not the first time Wonwoo’s heard those words thrown at him, _overachiever,_ but that doesn’t mean it hurts any less.

Nobody just seems to understand that he needs to perform well at school. He _needs_ to.

And the boy’s words caused Wonwoo’s eyes to sting pathetically, “Wha- I’m not-“

“Save it.” The boy cuts Wonwoo off, before bending down a little bit so they’re face to face, he’s smirking, “Are you crying?”

“I’m-“

“Wonwoo!” Someone calls from behind the boy, who freezes and turns to take a look, Wonwoo sees a Wen Junhui jogging towards them, looking worried about him, like he always is, Wonwoo feels his face heat up, “Are you okay?”

_Can his luck get any worse?!_

He feels Junhui come up to his side and look him up and down, surely he didn’t miss how red Wonwoo’s face was becoming, but he doesn’t mention it, instead turning toward the boy and scowling at him, “You should be more careful next time.”

“ _I_ should be more careful? It was his faul-“

“You weren’t looking at where you’re going, and trust me, I saw you.” Junhui cuts him off, and he stares the boy down, squaring up and pulling Wonwoo behind him protectively. _Classic Junhui._ “I won’t have my best friend be bullied by another one of you assholes.”

Wonwoo squeezes Junhui’s arm to make him stop, everything was getting too embarrassing already. He hears the other boy scoff, “Whatever, I don’t have time for this.” The boy says, and he looks from behind Junhui as the boy picks his stuff up and walks away.

He lets out a shaky breath, and Junhui turns and cups his face, “You okay, Won?”

Wonwoo nods his head, wriggling out of Junhui’s hold and picking up his stuff, Junhui following suit.

He picks up his thermos, sighing at the wasted drink, and trying to find the lid until Junhui hands it to him.

“That guy spilled your drink.” Junhui says; Wonwoo only blinks at him, “You should’ve demanded him to pay for it.”

“I blanked out.”

“Of course you did.” Junhui shakes his head, “Why do I always catch you in compromising situations, Won?”

“Maybe it’s because you’re meant to save me everytime.”

Wonwoo’s eyes widen. He wasn’t supposed to say that.

Junhui chuckles, “If I can, I will.”

Wonwoo’s heart skips a beat. This is what he liked (and simultaneously hated) the most about Junhui, he always seems to have something sweet to say to him–something that makes him more endearing –ever since they met.

“You aren’t wearing your glasses today.” Junhui hums, tipping Wonwoo’s chin up when he looks toward the ground.

“Yeah, I left them at home.”

“That explains it,” Junhui bites his lip, and Wonwoo wonders if he does this kind of shit on purpose, “I’ll just take notes for you.”

Wonwoo nods, pursing his lips to keep himself from saying something stupid like, “ _Thanks, can you take me too?”_

“Nice shirt, by the way.” Junhui smiles at him, before placing his hand at his back. “Yellow really suits you.”

Wonwoo looks down at his shirt and sees the small logo of the university near the collar, which isn’t supposed to be there; he’s lost count of how many fuck ups he’s done today, so he resorts to closing his eyes and praying for the lord to strike him dead this _second._

“Nobody will notice. Come on we don’t want to be any later than we already are.” Junhui moves his hand to his lower back and guides them to their building. Wonwoo feels his face heat up even more at the gesture.

“Thanks, Jun.”

“Anything for you.” Junhui smiles at him. But it doesn’t make Wonwoo feel any better. If anything, it makes him feel worse, because why on earth is he in the presence of such an angelic being when he’s making such a mess?

Wonwoo wants to _die_ , more than he usually does.

 

* * *

 

Mingyu wasn’t planning on anything else other than get to his lectures for the day and then laze around in his penthouse right after. But fate had so many different plans for him today.

He was to blame for it too, in a sense. Walking around a crowded university without looking where he’s going, believing that people would get out of his way on their own out of _respect_ (Why would people owe him respect when they don’t know him, anyway? He’s too much of an egotist).

Mingyu didn’t care. He’s bumped into a couple of people already, all of them muttering apologies right after taking a look at him, and yet he _still_ hasn’t found his building.

But Mingyu isn’t one to just give it up and ask for help. He’d rather suffer and solve his problems alone rather than owe a favor to someone else for helping him. If spending all that time with his father taught him anything, it’s that.

So, despite making a wrong turn _thrice_ (he has a map and still can’t find the place… it’s disappointing, really), he trudges on, not bothering to ask for directions because he’s too good for that; and you know what else he’s too good for?

Reading his own sensory clues.

He could hear it, the frantic pounding of feet against the ground, getting closer to him. He could hear a panting mess, and almost smell the woody undertones of perfume, mixing with the smell of textbooks and highlighter ink. And it’s stupid, but Mingyu also feels goosebumps rise on his skin as the footsteps get even closer.

Mingyu’s senses come _alive_ , but he’s too good to listen to any of it, opting to stare at his useless map instead.

 _“Hey, watch out!”_ Was the last thing he hears before he feels a sudden weight in front of him, taking him by surprise and shifting his balance.  He falls backward and tries to hold on to the boy, expecting him to keep the both of them upright; what he gets is another body on top of him.

He falls on his back, the body on top of him unmoving, “Ah. My back.”

Mingyu had hoped that that statement would get the guy off him, but it _doesn’t,_ and he’s heavy and it’s frustrating for Mingyu because the smell of wood earlier is ten times stronger and ten times more compelling. Since when was Mingyu so fucking attracted to scents, anyway? He’s not a dog.

“Watch where you’re going, will you!” He opens his eyes to glare at the boy until he goes away. But he’s surprised to see a sculpted face with fear written all over it.

It surprises him so much that he pushes the boy off him forcefully, “Dude!”

Mingyu stands up, glaring at the boy because his back hurts but the fact that he forgot about it the moment he saw that face _troubles_ him. He isn’t supposed to feel like that towards anyone.

So he opts to take his troubles out on the boy, because apparently, Mingyu never grew out of the phase where he lives to make his person of interest’s life a living hell.

Not that he’s interested in the dude, though. (He definitely is, _fantastic._ )

It all goes by fast, and suddenly the boy is face to face and arguing with him; and Mingyu gets a swell of pride over the fact that he’s taller (what is he? twelve?), while he feels the boy poke at his chest.

Mingyu just watches as the boy’s face gets redder as he talks, and being the cocky, self-righteous bastard he is, he attacks the boy’s weakness once displayed.

The response he gets is unexpected, though. He feels satisfied at first, smirking at the effect he has on somebody he didn’t even know, but then, he sees tears well up in the boy’s eyes.

Mingyu’s always been taken aback at sudden surges of emotion when it’s displayed to him by other people, and this dude –no matter how pretty he is– is no exception.

But MIngyu wasn’t going to back down to his shock now, so he tries to mask it with a smug look on his face, “Are you crying?”

Mingyu peers at the boy, how his pale skin is tinting at his cheeks, his lower lashes clumping together from his tears. Mingyu wasn’t prepared for the soft whimper that escapes the boy’s lips.

He wasn’t prepared for the shout that comes after, either, “Wonwoo!”

_So that’s his name._

Mingyu turns around to find a boy coming closer to them, looking distressed and guarded, coming up next to that Wonwoo guy and pulling him behind him, “You should be more careful next time.”

_Oh, he has a boyfriend._

Mingyu’s flustered by the fact, and it turns him defensive, “ _I_ should be more careful? It was his faul-“

The boy cuts him off, “You weren’t looking at where you’re going, and trust me, I saw you.”

All his life, nobody who knew him was brave enough to stand up to him, but perhaps it’s the fact that these people really don’t _know_ him, still, Mingyu’s not used to being told off.

 “I won’t have my best friend be bullied by another one of you assholes.” The boy says. And Mingyu’s ears perk up the words ‘best friend _’._

 _Not a boyfriend, huh?_ Mingyu thinks, _then you’re not helping his case._

Mingyu’s not really sure what he’s going to do, but he’ll figure something out.

Trying to walk away with the little dignity he has left, he scoffs and picks up his things, in his peripherals he catches a glimpse of Wonwoo peeking from behind the boy. And he walks away with the innocent look imprinted in his mind, his tongue heavy after learning a new word, _Wonwoo._

 

Mingyu goes about his day the way he planned it.

_Almost._

Because that one scenario just won’t stop replaying in his head. And he just seems to romanticize it even more as time passes by; like some lovestruck idiot.

He sees the boy on top of him again, but this time he imagines the sunlight going over his head like a halo, and instead of seeing fear etched into his face, Mingyu sees a smile.

Mingyu knows it’s just his imagination, but _shit,_ was it a beautiful smile.

Mingyu tries to shake the image away, but he just feels mad at himself when he thinks about how he couldn’t get his head out of his ass long enough to introduce himself properly. It’s one of those few moments when he wishes he grew up polite.

But he didn’t, so he walks out his lecture hall with a frown on his face, his mind swimming with the different ways that endeavor could’ve gone. He tries to distract himself as he fishes his phone from his coat pocket, dialing a too familiar number, expecting nothing but a dial tone and a robotic voice telling him to ‘leave a message’, because it’s happened so many times; it’s even starting to feel almost therapeutic to him.

“Hello?”

“Dad,” Mingyu says in a gasp when the call is answered, he hears a hum from the other end, “I-I just finished my classes today. The university looks good.”

“Really? That’s good, son.” His dad says, and he hears the faint tapping of fingers on a keyboard, his dad must be busy at work, _as usual,_ “why did you call?”

“I, uh,” Mingyu trails off. He hadn’t thought this through. He didn’t even think he’d get _this_ far, most of the time, his father’s line was busy and his calls would be directed to voicemail.

“You shouldn’t mutter, Mingyu. It makes you sound unsure of yourself. Now, why did you call? Make it quick.”

The dismissive tone of his father’s voice makes Mingyu’s expression crumble further. _He was being a distraction._

“I was just wondering if you wanted to eat dinner together tonight? I’ll invite mom too…” Mingyu says, having a hard time keeping the hopefulness out of his voice. It’s just been a long time since they had some time together as a family, _too_ long.

“I don’t know about your mom, she just got off her flight. Might want some rest.” His father’s replies were short and unfocused, making it sound like he needed to get it _done_ as soon as possible, “And as for me, I have a meeting with the board and don’t know what time-“

“Yeah, Dad, I understand. Just forget I asked.”

“Mingyu?”

“Bye, dad.”

The line went silent for a few seconds, and Mingyu was so tempted to hang up, but his dad managed to utter a small _bye_ , before he beat him to it.

Dinner’s going to be served cold tonight, then. Mingyu should’ve known.

 

* * *

 

You know that saying about seeing somebody more often once you have an awful encounter with them?

It’s happening to Wonwoo.

It’s been a full week since he trampled that expensive looking lad, and Wonwoo’s seen him at the library, the hallways, outside his fucking _lecture hall_ , and Wonwoo might be imagining this one, but he even saw him at the editing company he has a part time job at.

If he didn’t know better, he’d think that the boy was doing it on purpose. But the attitude he displayed when they first met takes it out of the question. So Wonwoo believes it’s just another one of those games fate loves to play on him.

Avoiding the boy became his newfound hobby. Once he spots the ash colored hair in the hallways, he turns on his heel and walks the other way, he doesn’t take a seat in the library and just checks out the books he need even though it sort of means he’s giving himself a chance to lose it, and when he sees him outside his lecture hall, he hides behind his best friend.

Who, obviously, is Wen Junhui, a sophomore and scholar just like him.

If other people were to describe a Wen Junhui, they probably won’t go beyond the surface; they’d say he’s tall, handsome, maybe even go as far as saying he looks _exotic._ (Wonwoo cringes _every_ _time_.)

Wonwoo knew him better. If he was asked to describe Wen Junhui, he’d tell them about their first meeting. How he realized Wen Junhui wasn’t another one of those socialites born to ruin his life from the sheer sincerity in his voice the first time he asked Wonwoo if he was okay. How he never failed to check up on Wonwoo ever since. How he’s been Wonwoo’s rock for the better part of college. And how Wonwoo just couldn’t stop himself from falling for him; for his shy laughs, his kind heart, his outlandish mind. ( _okay, Wonwoo totally won’t tell anyone about the last part, but at least he’s honest with himself._ )

“Wonwoo, you’re stretching my shirt.”

“I’m sorry, but he’s here _. Again.”_

Wonwoo’s gripping the back of Junhui’s shirt and crouching behind him, his cheeks turning a shade of pink from the proximity. He has his glasses on today, and he can see, _very clearly,_ the boy leaning against the wall outside his lecture hall.

So he’s been hiding himself behind Junhui since they stepped out.

This was what his mother told him about before, people waiting for him outside of school to beat the shit out of him once he fucks up, and he’s not prepared to go through it a second time.

He takes slow steps, dragging a sighing Junhui along with him by the bag straps, trying to avoid making himself noticeable, as if hiding behind another dude while walking around wasn’t noticeable. Honestly, he needs to get a grip.

Thinking that he’s managed to put a good enough distance between them to be in perfect sight, he peeks at the boy, and finds him already looking in their direction.

Wonwoo’s heart speeds up in bewilderment, eyes widening as he straightens himself up and acts like he didn’t see him, linking arms with Junhui and walking away robotically.

Junhui looks at him, snorting at the apathetic look on his face, “What was that?”

“Just go with it, Wen Junhui, I swear to God.” Wonwoo whispers at him, keeping his eyes forward.

He can feel the boy’s eyes on him, and it makes his skin crawl.

Wonwoo manages to take a few steps forward, but he still feels like he’s being watched, so decides that enough is enough, turning to look at the boy, but finding that he wasn’t there anymore.

 

Wonwoo finds himself sitting at a café with textbooks piling in front of him.

Junhui’s there too, and he’s staring at Wonwoo intently (enough to make him blush), but Wonwoo isn’t looking back at him in fear of giving in to his request.

“Just let me buy you a coffee and some lunch, Won. I swear, it’s nothing.”

But it’s _not_ nothing _._ Wonwoo’s already embarrassed enough by the fact that he can’t afford to buy himself a coffee, let alone have _Junhui_ buy him a coffee.

“No thanks.” Wonwoo says, keeping his eyes trained on the book in front of him, his highlighter going over the words _actively managed funds,_ and his mind going over the fact that he can’t understand what it means anymore because he’s tired and hungry and delirious from thinking about that boy watching him and just disappearing from plain sight.

“So, you’re just gonna sit there with nothing to eat or drink for almost two hours until you leave for work?” Junhui says, clearly frustrated, “Wonwoo, you barely even had lunch!”

“I had lunch.” Wonwoo dismisses him, and Junhui makes a noise between a snort and a huff, which would be strangely endearing if he didn’t have that disapproving look on his face.

“One,” Junhui holds up one finger, like he’s trying to remind Wonwoo of how much ‘one’ is, “chocolate chip cookie isn’t lunch, Wonwoo, you know that.”

“I had milk too, and it was a large cookie,” Wonwoo looks straight at Junhui now, “and it’s not like a cup of expensive coffee is lunch, it’s not even as healthy as what I ate earlier.”

“I’m offering to buy you coffee, _and_ lunch, Wonwoo. You don’t have to be shy when it comes to me, I’m your best friend.”

But Wonwoo _is_ shy with him, because he’s been nice since the beginning and Wonwoo can’t repay him in any way simply because he can’t afford to.

“I don’t want to be indebted to you, Jun.” Wonwoo says, and he sees something flash on Junhui’s face, and it looks a lot like disappointment, Wonwoo fumbles with an apology, “I’m sorry, okay, but I’m not really hungry, anyway. You really don’t have to worry about me.”

“You won’t be indebted to me because I voluntarily did it for you,” Junhui smiles, and Wonwoo’s heart might as well have pushed out of his chest and rubbed itself all over Junhui with how fast it’s beating, “but if you say so.”

Junhui shrugs and walks towards the counter, leaving Wonwoo to stare at his textbooks, hyperventilating quietly from the attention Junhui gave to him.

That’s the thing about having a crush on your best friend–you have no choice but to hide it. Because trying for a confession isn’t ever taken seriously and turns into a brand new inside joke faster than you could try to stop it.

Other than that, there’s just a bigger chance of losing a friend than gaining a lover.

And although Junhui does some weird shit to Wonwoo (like how every time he even just smiles at him, Wonwoo can feel heat flood at the back of his neck and climb towards his face, or how whenever Junhui throws his arms over his shoulders Wonwoo is tempted to tangle his fingers with Junhui’s dangling ones), he just knows it shouldn’t be happening, because Junhui should only be his _best friend._ That’s it, nothing more, nothing less.

Or at least, that’s what he can make Junhui think until he gets his feelings in check.

Because, _holy shit,_ Wonwoo really does have a fat fucking crush on his best friend. And he can’t help it when they’re always together, with Junhui always acting like his very own knight in shining armor, protecting him from every little threat, sometimes even from himself.

Maybe he’s just really fucking weak when it comes to people taking care of him, because he’s used to it being the other way around.

Wonwoo’s broken out of his thoughts when Junhui places his tray on their table, and when he looks up, he sees Junhui with his head tilted to the side.

“You really sure you don’t want anything?”

“Positive.”

Wonwoo gives Junhui a thumbs-up, watching as he gives one back before taking a sip from his coffee and flipping open a textbook.

Wonwoo pays attention to the way his eyes skim through the words, a lock of hair falling over his forehead which remains unnoticed because of his undivided focus, and Wonwoo is _so_ tempted to just reach out and fix it.

But he knows he can’t do that, not without the hope that he’s the only one who gets to do it, so he just smiles sadly at the sight.

 

_Just finish this one. Just finish this one. Just finish this one._

Wonwoo recites like a mantra as he taps away at his keyboard, the fluorescent lights above him casting a shadow beneath his eyes that creates a perfect visualization of his fatigue (despite his constant denial). His mind is empty, not registering the words displayed on the monitor in front of him, and the only feeling he’s capable of feeling is feeling sorry for the owner of this manuscript he’s assigned to.

He was dead tired of seeing the same words over and over again, and he briefly wonders if he’s reading a work so redundant it hurts, or if his brain just doesn’t recognize the fact that he’s been stuck on a single page since he started.

At this point, he was too scared to figure it out.

Giving up, he sighs and closes his eyes for a moment, cradling his head in his hands and massaging his temples like how his mom does when he has headaches back at home, her voice echoing at the back of his mind.

It’s usually a welcome sound, but his exhaustion pushes him to think about how resigned her voice sounds like when she talks through the phone, muttering apologies at him for things that weren’t her fault.

Wonwoo groans, it’s been a while since he’s had an episode like this, and it seems like this one’s out to get him; in the form of an unwelcome migraine with a stiff neck to match, cutting down his attention span in half and his patience in quarters.

He takes a deep breath and pulls his head up so he doesn’t look like he’s slacking off, immediately seeing black and polychrome dots framing his vision. He blinks it away quickly, his work glaring at him from the monitor and daring him to ignore it one more time. He glares back with equal intensity, because it’s giving him a hard time and he’s not ashamed to admit right now that he _hates_ it.

It really wasn’t an issue of whether he liked his job or not – because he did, there were only so many jobs he could stomach and this was basically on top of the list– but rather, the dense weight of something inescapable settling in his stomach.

Or maybe it’s just because he skipped lunch again.

Wonwoo ignores it for the meanwhile, letting it churn in his belly while he types at his keyboard again

But he’s dissociated himself so far from this moment that he can almost visualize his childhood bedroom surrounding him, the window in front of him bearing his past best friend’s enormous house, a fireplace lit behind him with bookshelf after bookshelf filled with his favorite novels, the room so spacious that it almost suffocates him when he zones back into his office cubicle.

Everything around him was too grey and cold, the air stuffy with the smell of dust and ink; the Styrofoam cup full of coffee in front of him a huge contrast to the warm mug of hot chocolate he can still clearly visualize on his bedside desk until now.

He misses his mom, even his dad. He wonders if they’re eating well and if his younger brother’s doing his homework like Wonwoo told him, if he massages their mom’s back whenever she complains about it, and if he reminds their dad to wear his glasses.

Wonwoo misses them so much.

This wasn’t the appropriate place to reminisce, but Wonwoo promises himself that he’d check up on them later.

For now, Wonwoo ignores the way his stomach grumbles as he changes the font color of a sentence from black to red.

 

Perhaps the only good thing that comes to Wonwoo this week is the small brown envelope containing his salary, which, truthfully, isn’t much; but more than what the average college student earns.

And Jeon Wonwoo is in desperate need of everything that’s more than average.

“Mom?”

Wonwoo sits down on the bed with his phone pressed over his left ear. It’s gotten dark already, and his roommate is passed out on his bed, at least someone can get a good rest.

“Hello? Wonwoo? Why are you calling so late? Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“Don’t worry, mom, I sleep well.” _Lies. “_ I just wanted to tell you that I already sent the money for this month, have you received it?”

The line went silent.

Wonwoo can hear his mother shuffling around through the phone, probably getting up from bed, and Wonwoo already knows what she’s going to say before he hears her inhale sharply.

“Wonwoo, I’m sorry you–“

“Mom, stop.” Wonwoo sighs, “I want to do this, okay? I want to help.”

“But that’s not your job, son. You’re already doing so much in school, your grades last semester were stellar, Wonwoo…”

_For you, mom._

“–it must be hard just to get that. A job will just distract you…”

“Mom, I’ve been doing good so far, haven’t I?” Wonwoo tries to smile, but it comes out bitter, _has he really been doing good? No._ ”I can manage, I swear.”

“Well, at least, just keep the money? You worked for it, son. You don’t need to give it to us.”

“I want to give it to you, mom. You need it more than me.” Wonwoo frowns, they never explicitly talk about this unless it’s getting urgent, but Wonwoo can’t skirt around it now, “I just want to get us out of it.”

His mom sobs, and Wonwoo runs his hand through his hair before falling back to his bed. Why he subjects himself to this kind of torture, he will never know… he honestly hates hearing his mom cry, “Mom–please don’t cry.”

“It’s just,” His mom takes a deep breath, “you’re doing so much for us, Wonwoo. You aren’t even studying about what you love the most because of us!”

Wonwoo feels a tear run down his temple, and he puts his arm over his eyes before trying to cheer up his voice, “Who says I don’t love studying business?”

“Wonwoo.”

“How’s Bohyuk doing, huh? Does he give you more headaches than I do, or what?”

His mom breathes a laugh on the other side of the line and Wonwoo smiles, she’s really easy to distract, Bohyuk picked that up from her.

“Oh, he’s no trouble!” She sniffles, “Getting nothing other than A’s in his classes. He says he misses you.”

He didn’t say that. Wonwoo knows his brother enough to know that.

Wonwoo giggles, “That’s good, mom. Tell him I told him to keep it up.”

There’s a pause on the line, and Wonwoo knows he’s been figured out, “Aren’t you a sly one?”

“You aren’t crying anymore, are you?” Wonwoo asks in a small voice.

“Not anymore, sweetheart.”

“Good, now please go to sleep. It’s pretty late.”

“Wonwoo, love,” His mom starts, “I’m so proud of you. We all are.”

“Mom.” Wonwoo groans, he isn’t about to start crying again _,_ he refuses to.

“And we miss you very much… do take care of yourself over there, alright? I know how hard it is to live alone and–“

“I miss you too,” Wonwoo cuts her off before she goes on a too long narrative about her life in college, “all of you. And I get it, mom. Eat my meals, take my supplements, sleep on time, and make friends.”

“ _Good_ friends.” She corrects.

“More than good.” Wonwoo reassures her, “Now, please take the money tomorrow, okay? Tell dad to buy new bottles of eye drops and remind Bohyuk to do his homework, you can get yourself a manicure too, is that what you call it? Manicures?”

“Yes, son.” There’s a sadness in her voice.

“Yeah, that.” Wonwoo clears his throat, “I uh, love you, mom.”

“Son…”

“Goodnight, mom. Please go to sleep now.”

“I love you too, Wonwoo. Goodnight.”

“Bye.”

“Bye, Wonwoo.”

He waits for the call to end before he takes a shaky breath, and the air rattles his lungs where he’s been holding his breath to keep him from sobbing out loud, a few deep inhales and he feels his head getting clearer. He frowns up at the ceiling.

Wonwoo knows that the money would all be spent on trying to pay off their debts, that his mom won’t be able to get those luxurious nail colors and spa massages, that it’s why his mom sounded so sad earlier; she was feeling bad about lying to him.

But Wonwoo knew, so the one who’s truly lying was him. Wonwoo wishes that one day, they wouldn’t have to lie to each other like that anymore.

The window above his bed was the only source of light right now, and Wonwoo stares at the shadow of the window’s frames as he thinks about his mom.

What he’d give just to get a hug from her right now.

Wonwoo falls asleep imagining the feeling of his mom embracing him, and amidst the cold room, he’s the warmest he’s ever been

 

* * *

 

Mingyu’s been actively following Wonwoo for a while now.

Ever since their little incident, his mind wouldn’t let him rest, conjuring up little scenarios that included a certain lanky boy with his awkward looks. He hated himself for that, really; never has he ever felt the need to get anything from anybody else.

But his heart says _this is different_ ; he _had_ to find that handsome paperweight that crushed him on his first day of University.

And it’s not something he consciously decided on, it was like his instinct just led him to this point; this point being outside the older boy’s lecture hall just to see him.

And yeah, he also figured out that Jeon Wonwoo was almost two years older than him, takes the same major as him, and is from Changwon.

His hand might've slipped and pulled a few strings that gave him a little bit of information about the boy (if you count knowing his brother’s name, _a little bit)_ , so now he knows his schedule, maybe Mingyu even aligned their schedules together, but he’ll never tell.

Normal people call this stalking, Mingyu likes to call it private investigation.

After all, the boy is in arrears with him, Mingyu just considers this as a form of payback.

Maybe it’s the fact that the first time he saw the boy was also the first time he felt so fucking _alive_ , that Mingyu is so compelled to get to know him.

But, honestly? It’s hard.

It’s already hard to locate a single person from the outflow of students in the college’s hallways, it’s especially hard to locate someone who’s doing their best to avoid you.

Mingyu found it amusing, at first; a six-foot tall man trying to duck his way away from him, it’s bound to crack him up even at a public library. And it does, because Wonwoo even covers his fucking face with a book as thick as the length of his pinky, Mingyu giggles at the ridiculousness of it all and kinda wishes that the book would fall out of his hands and land on his toes, just for laughs.

The next few times, he tries to be more subtle at appearing where Wonwoo is, and he manages to pick up on certain habits the older has; like how, when he’s displeased, his face turns stoic and he walks away immediately.

Yeah, Mingyu picked that up when he caught Wonwoo’s eyes outside of his lecture hall once.

Another one of his habits is how he sniffles his nose up when he’s pleased.

Mingyu considers himself one of the luckiest people in the university to be able to genuinely behold Wonwoo’s smile and soundless laugh as he read a comedy inside the library.

God, that sounds terrible even to him, what the fuck.

The last, but most prominent habit that Mingyu learned that Wonwoo has is this superhuman ability to hide.

He must’ve been an ace at hide and seek, and it’s starting to feel like a passive retaliation against Mingyu.

It was amusing until it wasn’t.

Because Wonwoo adapted a brand new defense mechanism that felt like an active offense against Mingyu.

Of all the things he’s discovered about Wonwoo within the week, he’s displeased the most with one of them.

And it’s that Jeon Wonwoo loves clinging to Wen Junhui.

What makes it worse is that Wen Junhui lets him do it.

That’s the situation right now.

Wonwoo’s ducked behind Junhui, peeking over his shoulder every now and then, and Junhui says something to him by leaning over him, and the way Wonwoo blushed from his neck up to his cheeks made Mingyu’s blood boil.

He glares at their direction, and Wonwoo must’ve felt his gaze, because he lifts his head and looks at him.

The reaction Mingyu gets is instantaneous, the moment his eyes meet Wonwoo’s, his heart makes a staccato leap, and he watches as Wonwoo’s eyes widen, before his face hardens into a hard gaze and he looks at the other direction, looping his arms together with Junhui’s before walking forward in a fast pace, his face never gaining emotion; that is, until, Junhui grins at him smugly, which has him sputtering.

This makes Mingyu’s heart leap again, but this time not in a good way, because it lands flat on his stomach, and it makes him feel sick, so he turns and walks away.

 

Mingyu almost slams the tray on their table, shaking it with the force he put into dropping it, Minghao raises an eyebrow at him.

“What the fuck happened to you? Did some girl ditch you again?” Minghao picks up his drink and hides the smug look on his face by taking a sip.

Mingyu gives him the stink eye, “I’m gay, you piece of shit.”

“That makes the two of us.”

“This isn’t the time for a sexuality discussion, Minghao. I swear to god.” Mingyu takes their food and leaves the tray on another table for the waiters to pick up, “and no sane girl would ditch me, if they ever do, I wouldn’t care.”

Minghao snorts, “Look at this narcissist asshole.”

“Save it, Hao, please.” Mingyu says, he isn’t in the mood to argue. His heart still hasn’t climbed back to its proper position in his chest, still creating a soft hammering on his stomach.

Mingyu eyes the drink he ordered, a venti Americano. A cup full of caffeine for his stomach dwelling heart, Mingyu just dubs himself the biggest idiot on the spot.

He pouts, but buries his lips in the curve of his inner elbow where he has his arms folded on top of the table.

He stares at Minghao’s torso, the solid mustard fabric ruffling as he moves to takes a sip of his drink before giggling at Mingyu’s miserable state. Mingyu pouts even more, what kind of best friend laughs at his friend’s demise

Minghao sighs before he mirrors his position, looking straight into Mingyu’s eyes.

See, the thing about being best friends with Minghao is that he has these piercing eyes that feel like they’re reading your soul, and Mingyu’s known for being vulnerable to shit like that.

Minghao might be the only person who’s seen Mingyu’s more fragile sides. And he knows how to handle them best.

He nudges Mingyu’s arm with his, “Talk to me, Gyu.”

“I’d rather not.”

Minghao glares at him.

Mingyu whines before whispering, “Some things just aren’t going my way.”

“Ah, leave it to the great Kim Mingyu to sulk when what he wants to happen, doesn’t.” Minghao says, cutting into his chocolate doughnut and popping the piece into his mouth.

Mingyu waits for him to swallow before saying, “I’m not sulking.”

“What do you call that, then? Negative reinforcement?”

“What? Can’t a boy be sad without reason?”

Minghao laughs at him, diving into the doughnut again, “The thing about you, Mingyu, is that you’re always sad. Its your default setting. This is one knob higher than your default. So something _must_ be bothering you.”

He raises a brow at Mingyu, and Mingyu groans before holding his hands up.

“Alright, alright… It’s just this boy–“

The sound of the bell on the door ringing has Mingyu looking up, and he stops talking immediately when he sees Wonwoo walking into the store.

The boy was still wearing his glasses from earlier, and the tip of his nose is pink, probably because of the cold outside, and Mingyu’s heart jumpstarts in his chest, climbing back up and almost choking him with how fast it beats.

He wills the feeling away, and that task isn’t too hard, especially when a certain Wen Junhui walks in right after, making the little thing plummet back to its second home.

Wonwoo lifts his head, and he freezes when his eyes land on Mingyu’s table, holding his arm out to stop Junhui from walking. Mingyu’s eyes flicker to the movement, and he shouldn’t be so affected by such a small gesture, but he is.

He and Wonwoo lock eyes, and Mingyu’s probably been staring at them for too long, because Minghao turns around to look as well.

Mingyu misses the way Minghao freezes in his seat.

He holds Wonwoo’s gaze, but Wonwoo turns, pushing Junhui out the threshold, and Mingyu can faintly hear his protests of, ‘ _but there are still so many seats!’._

The last thing Mingyu hears is a grumble from Wonwoo, before the bell sounds again as the door closes.

He blinks at the now empty space in front of the door, and Minghao turns back to him, confused as to why he’s still looking over there.

“Gyu?” Minghao questions, and when Mingyu doesn’t notice him, he snaps his fingers in his face.

Mingyu turns his attention back to Minghao, “Huh?”

“Did- do you know those people?” Minghao stutters, which is new, because Minghao always talks with confidence even if it isn’t his first language.

“I might.”

“What kind of fucking answer is that?” Minghao snaps, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Why does it matter? Do _you_ know them?” Mingyu snaps back, his nerves reaching its last straw.

Minghao gives him a sheepish smile, scratching at his wrist with his thumb, a nervous habit he shares with Mingyu, “I might…”

“Alright, what do you know about them?” Mingyu says, a humorless laugh escaping his lips.

“Just what they do, here in the shop.” Minghao shrugs, “I have my eyes, and the boy with the glasses always comes over here with the tall one…”

 _They’re both tall, though?_ Mingyu thinks.

“And, uh, they study together? I don’t know. They always have textbooks in front of them and are always whispering. They might be togeth–“

Mingyu feels blood rush through his ears, his gaze hardens, “They’re not, what else?”

“Woah, why’d you get so angry just by that statement?” Minghao asks, before his eyes widen, “You _do_ know them!”

“I don’t, I’m just curious. What else, Minghao?”

Minghao shakes his head, “Dude, if you like one of them, I’d stop you there. I think they’re just waiting for other to make a move and–“

“Minghao! I don’t care! What else do you know?”

Mingyu’s nose flares, and Minghao backs up, “Was it necessary to yell, bro?”

Mingyu stares at him, before his face contorts into an apologetic expression, “Ahh… shit, I’m sorry, Hao. I’m just–“

“The one in glasses doesn’t order anything, ever. Just stares at the other dude like the sun shines out of his ass when he isn’t looking. And the other dude keeps pestering glasses boy until he’s a blushing mess. I’m telling you, they’re all over each other. I don’t know what glasses boy’s deal is, though, never ordering anything. Maybe he doesn’t have cash or shit.” Minghao takes a deep breath, “that’s all I know, now if you’ll excuse me…”

Minghao moves to stand, but Mingyu holds his wrist before he can get away, “Hao, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to shout at you. I was just really frustrated, because, uh, because…”

Minghao stares at him expectantly, and Mingyu stares back before groaning, “Look, I’ll tell you someday, okay? But I’m still trying to make sense of the situation right now… Still, it was wrong for me to shout, I’m sorry?”

Minghao huffs a laugh before wiping at his cheek, Mingyu stiffens in his seat, “Oh no, Hao? Did I make you cry? I’m really sorry, shit, it won’t happen again.”

“Shut up, doofus. It’s fine.”

“But it’s not fine…” Mingyu pouts, he might be an asshole to everyone, but Minghao is his best friend, and if he’s the only person in this world to hear Kim Mingyu apologize, then so be it. Mingyu can’t bear to hurt him.

“Shut up, please. You’re making my head hurt just with your voice.” Minghao says, a teasing smile on his lips because Mingyu still hasn’t let go of his wrist.

“Sit down first.” Mingyu says in such a childish tone, Minghao hates him.

“I would, yeah? But you’re kinda making it hard.” Minghao points at Mingyu’s hand.

Mingyu lets go and sure enough, Minghao sits back down, adopting the position they were in earlier, his mouth in the crook of his elbow.

Mingyu keeps sitting straight, noticing how Minghao’s eyes soften before he buries his face in his arms.

He pats Minghao’s head, who swats it away with a groan. Mingyu giggles.

He leans back on his chair, hands folded over his stomach, mulling over what Minghao said; Wonwoo never buys any food? Why wouldn’t he? Is he allergic to any of their ingredients? Or is Minghao right in saying that he doesn’t have the money?

Mingyu takes a deep breath, paying no mind to it for now.

He needs to focus on cheering up Minghao.

Mingyu stares at the top of Minghao’s head, thinking of something to distract him from his albeit destructive thoughts. Minghao’s dangerous like that.

Mingyu smiles as an idea pops into his head.

Shaking Minghao’s shoulder, he says, “Wanna listen to my father’s voicemail recording again?”

Minghao picks his head up, his eyes crinkling at the sides as he laughs breathily, “What if he picks up?”

“I guarantee you, he won’t.” Mingyu says, taking his phone out and dialing the number.

He puts the phone on the table as it rings. The two of them wait, _one, two, three._

The robotic voice of his father permeates the air after the fourth ring, and it mixes with the giggles of two boys who may or may not be sharing the same ache, one that they momentarily forget.

It’s turned therapeutic, indeed.

 

* * *

 

“Jeon Wonwoo. I need you to stop dragging me into your little skirmish with that rich boy,” Junhui says, taking a sip of his favorite drink from the café they ran away from yesterday, “you made me miss my milkshake for a day.”

Wonwoo sighs, before stealing a fry from Junhui’s plate, to which the other doesn’t even bat an eyelash at, in fact, he looks pleased at the gesture. Wonwoo narrows his eyes at him, “Is your milkshake more important than my safety, Junnie? If you say yes I’m gonna need you to re-evaluate your priorities.”

“Sorry, but I really don’t see any threat from that boy, he’s kind of like a dog now, following you everywhere.”

“Weren’t you the one who demanded that I get payback for what he did the first time we encountered him? Where is your resolve, Mr. Wen?” Wonwoo bites at a fry once again and Junhui shakes his head at him.

“Remember when we first met?” Junhui tilts his head, and that catches Wonwoo off guard.

Shit, of course he remembers the first time they met, how could he ever forget?

Wonwoo met Wen Junhui when he was at the worst point of his life.

It was his first year of college, and it was like all of his dreams came true. He was studying in the most prestigious school in the country, with his passion as his major, Bachelor of Arts in Literature.

It was one of the most shining dreams Wonwoo’s ever had.

But all it took was one blow of the wind for it to rust over and collapse.

In his second semester, through some unfortunate stroke of misfortune, Wonwoo was forced to shift to a business course; and as if that wasn’t enough, he was also pushed to run on a full scholarship, meaning his stay in the university became entirely dependent on his performance.

Everything happened so fast, and Wonwoo struggled to keep up, but keep up he did.

Because he shifted his course during the second semester, he had to catch up on the specialized subjects of the course, so he needed to give up his summer vacation that year to take summer bridging classes.

Some sacrifices had to be made, but Wonwoo was fine with all of them, especially if it meant it would lessen the burden to his family back at home.

Wonwoo’s a smart kid, with a decent emotional quotient to match, so there _really_ wasn’t a problem, at least not for him.

Envy, though, wraps itself around the hearts of men at the most inconvenient time.

And every single problem that Wonwoo managed to avoid came back to him in the form of five third years looking for a helpless punching bag.

Preferably, one that was breathing and excelling at everything that they’ve had to redo _twice_ now.

Doesn’t that sentence spell out Jeon Wonwoo to you? No? Well, it did for them.

The boys were considerably larger than Wonwoo, probably not in height, but Wonwoo had gotten skinny from stress and he hasn’t had any proper training in combat except for binge watching those karate kid movies when he’s bored, so Wonwoo was rendered helpless as one of them pulls him into a dark and empty alleyway.

At first he thought they were robbing him, so he hands them the last piece of his life with the elites, his newest iPhone; the response he got was a grizzly laugh and a slap to his cheek, which caused him to drop the phone and crack its screen.

The next few blows were too much of a blur, all Wonwoo knew was pain in those few minutes.

He has never been hit or physically punished by his parents in his entire life, so every punch and kick was a new searing sensation to him. And they just kept coming.

Wonwoo remembers thinking, _why can’t I just die? It hurts so much, please let me die._

Eventually, the strikes turn familiar, and Wonwoo doesn’t know what’s happening anymore, he can barely open his eyes, let alone move his arms from where they’re curled around his head. He just lets everything happen, waiting for them to stop.

When they do stop, they just left him there, limp and bruising, the dirt clinging to his skin and clothes, mixed with his blood.

Wonwoo doesn’t know what happened next.

But he wakes up in a hospital, his mom on his side with tears streaking her face, his father and brother’s faces having matching expressions of relief.

His mother asks him what happened, but he doesn’t know what to tell her; everything happened too fast, he remembers their faces, but he doubts that’ll help, so he just keeps quiet as his mother tells him about the dangers of being a threat to another man’s ego.

Wonwoo is held back again, two weeks to be exact. And when he returns to school, it’s with a cast and a bruised face.

He was seated alone in the cafeteria, then. When somebody suddenly tugs the chair in front of him and takes a seat. Wonwoo flinches, covering his face with his casted arm.

When nothing lands on him, Wonwoo peaks through his arms, seeing a handsome boy seated across from him.

”I’m sorry.”

Those were Junhui’s first words to him, and Wonwoo looked at him questioningly, trying to remember if he was one of the people who beat him up.

But no matter how much he looked, he wasn’t familiar with him. Wonwoo realized that this isn’t one of the boys who did this to him.

Before he could even ask what the boy’s sorry about, he starts talking, or ranting, actually, “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to help you when they did that to you. There were too many of them, we would've both been knocked out if I intervened, I’m so sorry.”

The boy bows his head, and Wonwoo widens his eyes in shock.

“I was the one who took you to the infirmary. I remembered all of their faces and reported them to the Dean. They’re probably on their way to expulsion right now.”

Wonwoo just keeps staring the boy in disbelief, he tries to open his mouth and say something, but the boy beats him to it again, “Are you okay…?”

He left the end of the sentence dangling, as if asking a question other than that, and it’s only then Wonwoo realizes that the boy wanted to know his name.

“Wonwoo.” He muttered softly.

“Wonwoo,” The boy repeats his name, and Wonwoo’s never thought his name was nice until that moment, “I’m Wen Junhui. Are you okay, Wonwoo?”

The boy, Junhui, gives him a timid smile, and Wonwoo’s brain short circuits.

“Jeon Wonwoo.” Wonwoo says.

And Junhui stares at him with his mouth agape, and only then does Wonwoo realize what the fuck he did, and red starts to climb up to his neck.

Junhui laughs, and Jeon Wonwoo just about felt himself simultaneously fall into his grave, and in love.

Now, Wonwoo stares at the phone on top of the table, it’s the same phone that fell from his hands in that incident, still alive and standing strong, just like him.

Then Wonwoo looks up at Junhui, and he feels fondness rush over him in waves. He’s so thankful for this boy, if it weren’t for Junhui, he doesn’t think he’d be here anymore.

Junhui smiles at him, and wow, he just knows he’s too far gone.

Wonwoo is pulled from his thoughts when a waitress approaches him with a tray filled with food. He raises his brow.

“Oh no, I didn’t order anything.” Wonwoo says, politely smiling at the waitress.

She smiles back, “It’s on the house, sir. The owner held a promo today and you’re one of the lucky winners.”

Wonwoo glares at Junhui from across the table, only the boy can do this kind of shit and get away with it, but he only tilts his head.

“Jun.” Wonwoo says, gritting his teeth.

“It’s not me! Promise!” Junhui held his hands up.

The waitress puts the tray down and Wonwoo sees that he received a complimentary drink and meal.

“Enjoy, sir.” The waitress says, and though Wonwoo is still shook up by what happened, he manages a small smile and a polite ‘ _thank you’._

Junhui grins at him before taking a fry from his plate, just like what he did earlier. And Wonwoo stares at the plating, appreciating the presentation.

Café promos are really stepping it up now, aren’t they?

Wonwoo shrugs, picking up a fry.

But then he notices a small slip of paper underneath the plate, and Wonwoo freezes.

They don’t include handwritten notes in promos, do they?

Junhui senses Wonwoo’s sudden rigidity and asks, “Are you okay?”

Wonwoo ignores him, taking the paper in between his fingers and lifting it up to read it.

 

_You look cute when you wear your glasses, please wear them more often. -M_

 

Holy shit.

This is definitely not a promo.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, this is a new fic by me.  
> no, i haven't forgotten about tightrope.  
> yes, i will update them consecutively (hopefully).  
> no, this hasn't been beta-ed :(
> 
> lastly, i hope you enjoy this!!! updates should be on sundays if i'm not flooded with schoolwork :) aaaaand i would appreciate any kind of attention to this fic, constructive criticisms are welcome.... okay see ya next chap hihihihi


	2. Mal compris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mingyu is misunderstood. Wonwoo is tired. A proposition is made.

**"once upon a time we had it all,**

**somewhere down the line we went and lost it”**

“Dad! Dad, look! I made a little plane!”

Mingyu holds his arms up, his stubby eight-year old fingers clasped lightly around popsicle sticks that have been cut up and glued together to resemble a propeller plane. He smiles at his creation, the only thing missing was a bit of color.

“That’s nice, son. Why don’t you show it to Miss Bella, instead?” His father grumbles, not even looking up from the papers on his desk. Mingyu frowns, why won’t he look at it?

Miss Bella was his nanny, a lithe French woman who was surprisingly good in Mingyu’s language, and as much as Mingyu liked her, he didn’t make the plane for _her._

So Mingyu stood still in the same spot, staring at his father and waiting to get his attention for long enough, maybe even have him crack a smile at him.

His father sighs, “What else do you need, Mingyu?” He says, finally turning to him, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose, and Mingyu smiles before thrusting the little toy towards him.

“I’ve seen it, Mingyu.” He says in a monotone voice, “and I already said it’s nice. I have a lot of work to do, son.”

Mingyu’s frown turns into a pout as he tries to hold in his tears.

_But I made that myself._

Mingyu’s tears almost spilled from his eyes, he was confused… How hard was his father’s ‘work’ that he couldn’t turn to look at him for more than five seconds? What is this ‘work’ doing to his dad?

_Does dad love work more than me?_

Mingyu starts to sob.

“Mingyu! There you are!” A woman’s voice calls to him, and not long after that he feels a pair of arms wrapping around his torso and pulling him away from his dad, “I’m so sorry, Mister Kim. He said he was only going to the loo and I didn’t know that–“

“It’s fine, just keep him entertained for now… and keep an eye on him, won’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

He sees his father dismiss the both of them with a wave of his hand. This makes something in Mingyu snap, and he starts thrashing around his nanny’s hold, sobbing loudly.

“Dad!” Mingyu wails, his hand trying to pry away the woman’s hold.

But the arms around him tighten as Miss Bella leans in to start whispering to him, “Mingyu. Shh, Stop crying, love.”

“No! I want to talk to dad!” He cries, hands reaching for the doorknob and trying to hold on to it, as if it could stop him from almost being dragged out the room.

Miss Bella starts getting frantic, “Later, Mingyu. Mingyu, please. Enough!”

When she raises her voice, Mingyu freezes up. Her face was set in a hard glare as she pulls the door to his dad’s office closed; the last thing Mingyu sees from the inside is his father shaking his head with a disapproving look on his face.

Mingyu still remembers the way those doors closed, the way he cried silently in the hallways as he walked to his room to play with expensive toys that bear no meaning to him, and he knows that his father’s heart started shutting him out at that exact moment.

How his father remained undisturbed the entire time, Mingyu still doesn’t understand.

 

“Was that the best you could do?”

Mingyu stands in front of the full length mirror in his walk-in closet, his hands coming up to pull at his hair, in his reflection he sees that his lips are bitten a raw red.

It’s been about three days since he pulled that little stunt at the café, and it hasn’t let him rest ever since. “ _You look cute when you wear your glasses_ , what kind of dumb shit is that? Christ, I know seventh graders who can do better than that.”

He moves out the mirror’s view and scratches his head as he tries to choose between his collection of sweaters, groaning because his brain just won’t stop remembering how he rushed to create a little note for the boy and thinking of nothing else but how cute he looked in his round glasses.

Like every girl’s ‘I want a nerdy boyfriend’ stereotype handsome.

Mingyu closes his eyes, breathing deep through his nose once, before walking back in front of the mirror and glaring at his reflection, he didn’t even have a shirt on yet, like a silent wish for hypothermia or some shit.

“Get it together, Mingyu.” He slaps his cheeks, his hands holding his face until his lips pucker, “He’s not worth it…”

Mingyu was taught to pep talk himself when he was young, because he gets aggravated easily and it helps keep his thoughts in check. But this was something else. It’s as if he’s scolding himself. For having _feelings._

Yep, It’s official, Kim Mingyu has gone insane _._

 _This is why I shouldn’t like anyone,_ Mingyu thinks, _my logic flies out both of my ears and turns itself into pages of abstract reasoning._

He shakes his head, wearing a random teal sweater before slipping into his black leather jacket. It makes him look ridiculous, but nothing can be more ridiculous than what he feels right now, so he makes do and walks out the door with his Gucci messenger bag slung over his shoulder.

 

* * *

 

The projector screen blurs as Wonwoo’s eyes slip shut, his head tipping forward dangerously.

If Junhui wasn’t there to catch his dumb ass by the forehead then he might’ve cracked his skull by now.

“Won,” Junhui slides his hand down Wonwoo’s face and taps his cheek, Wonwoo blinks rapidly to focus on Junhui’s face, which was a bad idea _,_ because he looked so cuddle-able in his fuzzy knit sweater. Wonwoo’s in trouble of falling asleep faster, “Wonwoo, look at me.”

_Shit, I don’t want to._

Wonwoo grumbles and Junhui chuckles at the boy’s actions. He takes Wonwoo’s wrist and shakes it, watching as his hand flops limply from side to side. Junhui sighs.

“Did you eat breakfast today?” Junhui asks, letting Wonwoo’s wrist go by gently placing it on top of their table.

Wonwoo nods, his eyes closed as he lifts a hand to scratch at the left one from under his glasses, “Ramyeon.”

“Yeah. That’s healthy.” Junhui grimaces, before turning back towards the screen and taking down short notes. Wonwoo copies his actions, but his eyes immediately lose focus after writing five words down.

_Oh no._

Wonwoo’s head tilts forward again, and it lands on Junhui’s open palm, only harder this time, because the boy wasn’t looking. He hears Junhui wince at the sound his hand makes, “One more time, Wonwoo.”

“I’m sorry, m’just so sleepy.” Wonwoo mumbles, placing a hand over the sore spot on his forehead where he slammed it on Junhui’s hand.

“What time did you even sleep last night? You look like hell.” Junhui puts his pen down and faces him, soft lips pulling into a disapproving line, just looking at it makes Wonwoo want to curl up and die.

“Dunno. Late.” Wonwoo shrugs, hiding a yawn behind his hand.

“Why? What have you been doing?” Junhui wasn’t even paying attention to the lecture anymore, facing Wonwoo fully, and looking like he’s holding himself back from holding Wonwoo by the chin and inspecting his face to check for indications of adequate sleep (which he’ll never find).

“Overtime at work, and I had to finish my logs.” Wonwoo shrugs, and Junhui glares at how nonchalant he is when he almost passed out in the middle of class, “It’s fine, Junnie. I’m used to it.”

“They don’t pay you enough to put you on overtime.” Junhui mumbles, turning to look into his binder again, avoiding Wonwoo’s eyes.

Wonwoo’s aware Junhui does it because he knows –why Wonwoo breaks his back to keep that damn demanding job, why he stays up for school work that can be accomplished within the next week– and Junhui doesn’t want to take a look at him because he doesn’t want to make Wonwoo feel like he’s sorry for him.

They talked about that after Wonwoo opened up to him about his familial situation and Junhui’s kept his promise to never pity or feel sorry for how Wonwoo deals with it. Wonwoo’s eternally thankful for that, but he hates how Junhui copes with it by avoiding the conversation entirely. It frustrates him sometimes that Junhui tries to shut himself and his opinion out because he’s so scared of offending Wonwoo.

All Wonwoo wants is for him not to feel sorry for him, not to feel like he shouldn’t care.

“I won’t catch your face the next time.” Junhui suddenly says, startling Wonwoo, who was unknowingly dozing off while staring at Junhui as his brain runs at two-hundred miles an hour, “If you don’t break your neck once you slam your head on this table, I’m sure you’d be breaking your glasses, and we both know how expensive those are. Seriously, just take them off and take a nap.” Junhui says, not even sparing a glance at Wonwoo, and Wonwoo looks up toward their bored looking professor in front, teaching them about _taxes._

God, Wonwoo would be bored to death too if he were condemned to teach about that stuff for the rest of his life, his professor is absolutely relatable on that account.

“I bet he won’t even notice.” Junhui finally looks at him and smiles softly, and his suggestion sounds so fucking tempting, considering how deathly tired Wonwoo feels. But something, which is most likely his rigged conscience, makes him feel like it’s wrong.

“But I have to take notes.” Wonwoo tries to convince himself into being a responsible student one more time, and Junhui just snorts. It embarrasses Wonwoo, to a certain extent, to make himself look like such good noodle; even when he knows he’s nothing if not _exactly that._

“You can barely keep your eyes open, let alone take notes.” Junhui says truthfully, and Wonwoo blinks at him, trying to process what he just said; but his brain’s an old antenna television after twelve midnight, playing nothing but pure, loud static.

 _Yeah,_ _maybe he does need the sleep._

Junhui just grins, like he knows what’s happening in Wonwoo’s head, “Just sleep. I’ll give you my binder.”

“Don’t you have to study that?”

“I got plenty of time to study.” Junhui shrugs, raising his left hand and patting Wonwoo’s hair, it takes a lot for Wonwoo not to melt at the touch, “Sleep, you afternoon-nap dependent child.”

Wonwoo giggles at the nickname, but he doesn’t disagree. He definitely feels a lot like an afternoon-nap dependent child as he slips his glasses off and nestles his head in the crook of his elbow, falling asleep in seconds.

 

Wonwoo’s work today feels more uneventful than usual, save for the fluorescent light above the cubicle next to him which flickers every few minutes and effectively drives him up the wall; everything else feels like routine boredom.

Even the manuscript he’s currently reviewing is barely salvageable, and it makes him feel bad, because this is the third piece he’s rejected since the start of his shift; but he just can't bear to see another _‘I could care less’_ without popping a necessary vein.

He’s already physically exhausted with moving from one college building to another, so he doesn’t find the need to mentally hurt himself by frying his last remaining brain cells with grammatical errors anymore.

Glancing down to his computer clock, he breathes a sigh of relief when he sees that it’s almost 6pm, the end of the workday quickly approaching by the minute.

The relief leaves him quickly, though; remembering the foreign binder tucked neatly into his backpack, and the notes he still has to copy and study. Junhui kept his promise, waking him up when the bell rang and immediately handing him the binder with a single sticky note standing out to mark the lesson Wonwoo missed in his melatonin drunk state. This makes Wonwoo smile, but _what the hell_ , it’s not like people don’t borrow notebooks from their friends, what’s he smiling so big for?

Junhui was just being nice, _as always._

Wonwoo drops his smile, turning that thought over and over in his head. He can’t label anything Junhui does to him as romantic, he’s his best friend, of course he’d care. It’s natural to do things for your friends. Heck, Wonwoo could probably be at Junhui’s beck and call if the boy needed it.

_But he isn’t exactly just a best friend to me, is he?_

Wonwoo shakes his head. No, he can’t get his hopes up, there’s nothing there.

Also, he’s here to work, not fantasize about Junhui... He seriously needs to stop acting like a daydreaming adolescent and remember his responsibilities, there’s more to his life than a kind-hearted boy with the capacity to make him blush like a drunken man.

His crippling fear of failure, for example. Yeah, that’s why he has the binder in the first place, to jot down his lectures and study them, because he can’t flunk his classes; he just forgot about the practicality of the situation because of his sentiment, and he _hates_ that.

The next time Wonwoo looks at the clock, it’s already past 6, so he hastily picks his backpack up before his boss could ask him for another one of his _favors_ that would take hours of Wonwoo’s time, and he bolts out the office building. He still has a lot of things to do, and he’d rather not include another person’s job in that.

 

* * *

 

When Mingyu was nine, he thought it was an amazing idea to sneak into his father’s showroom for their newest condominium building.

He was just so intrigued with the smaller version of the tower, the _prototype_ , he read on the small placard in front; so he kept circling the table on which it was perched upon and awed at the detail of the somehow helical building, wondering how much time it took to put it together.

Mingyu wanted to touch it, and his hand was an inch away from the small thing when the door suddenly opened, making him snap his head back with a gasp. He had no time to panic so instead he ducked underneath the prototype’s table as men and women in business attire pour into the room, his dad walking in last.

The room dims, making Mingyu hold on to one of the table’s legs. He’s afraid of the dark.

“Comfort and peace of mind are what characterizes a home,” His father starts, and Mingyu wonders what he’s talking about; he thought homes were made up of good air-conditioning and maids that would cook anything you want?

“-and that’s exactly what the new Sun Condo Homes are offering to its patrons.”

Mingyu snickers, his dad’s just saying that because they don’t offer maids, do they?

His dad pauses his speech. This makes Mingyu look up from his hiding spot, and his dad sees him under the table; making Mingyu’s eyes widen at the same time his father’s turn to slits.

“Mingyu, what are you doing there?”

“I’m,“ Mingyu tries to explain, but what does he say? That the little building was pretty? His dad would think he’s stupid and he'd be humiliated to the people in front of them right now.

His dad sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I’m sorry, everyone. Let me just take care of our little situation here.”

The crowd giggles, and it makes Mingyu feel good; he made all those serious people laugh!

But then he sees his father walking toward him with a frown on his face, and Mingyu immediately loses the good mood, more so when his dad grips him by the upper arm to tug him out the door adjacent of the table.

His dad lets him go, “Why are you here, son?”

He was gritting his teeth, like it was taking a lot for him to talk to Mingyu like this, like he never wanted to have this conversation. Maybe he never did.

“I was just–“

“You need to learn that this isn’t a place where you’re needed, Mingyu. You’re being a disturbance; you’ve wasted some of these people’s time because of your shenanigans.”

His father’s voice was calm enough, but the implications are still there. He’s disappointed and he’s mad. At Mingyu. At the what he just did.

“I’m sorry, dad.” Mingyu hangs his head, tears threatening to spill out his eyes from his father’s words. He didn’t mean to be a disturbance, he was just curious. Mingyu’s always been curious about miniature things, especially if they’re complicated.

His dad gives him a long look, before shaking his head and beckoning a guard toward them, “This is what happens when your mother isn’t here. You keep on looking for attention at the most inappropriate places.”

“I said I’m sorry, dad!”

“Don’t you talk back at me, Mingyu!” His dad almost raises his voice, but brings it back down when the guard stood a few feet away from them, “I don’t want this to happen again. You hear?”

“Yes.” Mingyu has turned timid, his sadness overpowering any other emotion as his father passes him over to the guard with a firm order of ‘get him home safely’ before turning back into the room.

Mingyu’s selective hearing managed to hold on to the little hint of concern in his dad’s voice, and it anchors him to his composure as the guard guides him out with an arm wrapped around his shoulders.

“Let’s get you home, kid.”

 

Mingyu finds it amazing, how much you can find out of a person with just a few sheets of paper. He feels its weight like it’s nothing between his fingertips, but his mind drinks up the words that make up and summarize another person’s life like he’s part of it.

He can almost see himself in the graduation of a lanky, yet handsome boy who was accepting a valedictorian medal and a certificate of recognition for outstanding performance in creative writing and language.

Seriously, the boy’s credentials are amazing.

Earlier, Mingyu managed to convince himself that if he were to get closer to Wonwoo, he needed to find a way to get something out of him, his logic being he never wanted to be with anyone unless they’re needed; and he wanted to find something he could _need_ from Wonwoo before he allows himself to _want_ him.

Mingyu looks at his yearbook photos and stifles a smile, “He used to have pimples. So cu–”

Mingyu catches himself before he finishes that sentence, his throat closing for a bit and making his breath hitch, accurately portraying how strangled he feels with his sudden surges of emotion; seriously, if this would be his reaction every time he slips a fond remark at Wonwoo, then he’d end up dead before he can make a move.

He tries to move on by reading the very first page of the info sheet, he saved it for last because he knows that it’ll just be the general info, and he already knows _most_ of those.

Jeon Wonwoo, 23, from Changwon, and has a younger brother named Bohyuk.

Mingyu almost rolls his eyes at how redundant it’s getting, until his eyes land on his university background, seeing something _very_ interesting.

Jeon Wonwoo, 23, originally a Literature major, shifted to Business and acquired a full scholarship, with the sole reason of… bankruptcy.

Jeon Wonwoo filed a scholarship because of Abrupt Bankruptcy.

His credentials were stellar enough for it to be granted immediately. Mingyu doesn’t even question why Wonwoo had to file a scholarship; you won’t afford to study in this university if you were _poor_.

So Minghao was right, the boy doesn’t buy anything in the cafe because he actually fucking _can’t._

“I can’t believe it…” A lopsided grin involuntarily slips itself onto Mingyu’s mouth; the odds were in his favor.

The one thing Mingyu can stand for in his life is that money has never failed him. And it seems like it’s his best bet once again.

Mingyu was thinking up a storm on how to use his newly learned advantage when his laptop pings from his desk, alerting him of a video call from none other than his childhood best friend, Choi Seungcheol.

He clicks the green button, immediately seeing the older boy’s gummy smile, “Hey, hey, hey!”

“What do you need, hyung?” Mingyu settles down in the desk chair, raising an eyebrow towards the boy in the screen.

“Is that what you think of me? Can’t I call my best friend because I miss him?”

“No.”

“Mingyu, stop being a cold-ass bitch.”

The two have a glare-off, until Mingyu breaks his own façade and doubles over in laughter.

“I missed you too, hyung. How’s France?”

“ _Humide._ ”

“That’s healthy, isn’t it?” Mingyu giggles at Seungcheol’s attempt to speak French; his accent still a bit choppy but understandable.

“Yeah, Gyu. Wait, can you still speak French?”

“ _Oui._ I don’t think I can unlearn that, really. Wish I could.” Mingyu laughs bitterly.

“Aww, kid. I know the language brings up bad memories and stuff, but don’t hate on the country just yet! It’s really pretty here, wish you were with me.” Seungcheol pouts after the last sentence, it effectively lifts Mingyu’s mood.

“I’ve been there, hyung,” Mingyu says, fiddling with the laptop and adjusting the volume, “I’m so used to its beauty; I might’ve gotten sick of it.”

There’s a pause on the other side, “Okay, grumpy pants, no need to bring _my_ mood down as well.”

“I wasn’t trying to!” Mingyu raises his hands, and he sees Seungcheol smiling at his childish movements, so he brings them down.

“Okay, okay.” Seungcheol calms him down, “How about you? How are things going back there?”

Mingyu shrugs, “The usual. I can’t talk to dad, well, I’ve talked to him _once_ ; but he brushed me off within seconds. I don’t have the energy to keep up with Mom.  And I’m _still_ gay.”

“And they’re still not okay with it?” Seungcheol asks.

“Definitely not.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah.”

The silence suspends itself there. Mingyu has never been too open with talking about his sexuality, but recently, he’s been feeling like if no one else is willing to acknowledge it, then he has to be the one to; so he tries to make an effort in talking about it, but he still limits that to people who matter. (And those people are only Seungcheol and Minghao, but they have to be enough for now.).

Mingyu clears his throat, “Anyway…” He draws out the word, which easily gets Seungcheol’s attention.

“Yeah?”

“Hyung, your university has no tact.” Mingyu laughs and it only gets louder when he sees how much frowning Seungcheol is doing.

“Hey! Don’t talk like that, that place produced two of the richest entrepreneurs in the country.”

“Sure.” Mingyu smirks, “My dad’s school produced three of the richest businessmen in the _continent._ ”

“How arrogant of you.” Seungcheol tsks with a shake of his head, “What made you say that anyway?”

Mingyu laughs, “For a private institution, this place is easy to bribe.”

He’s talking about the papers, of course. How easy it was to flash a check and utter a little _‘I’m a friend’_ ; and then there’s his schedule, he doesn’t even need to talk about that.

“Dude, private schools run on money, of course they’d be easy to bribe.”  Seungcheol grins, “How much did you spend anyway?”

“Just a few thousands.” Mingyu shrugs, like a few thousand dollars are _nothing._ (It really isn’t for him, they gain that money back the moment he steps out the registrar’s office.)

“Ah.” Seungcheol looks pained, it’s hilarious, “What did you even need?”

“It’s a secret.”

Seungcheol hums, “Don’t do illegal things, Kim Mingyu.”

“I know.” Mingyu smiles, which Seungcheol immediately reciprocates.

“Alright, I gotta go. Really missed you, bro.” Seungcheol starts waving at the screen frantically, “Check up on Jihoon for me, won’t you?”

“Hyung, I’m not a babysitter.” Mingyu deadpans.

Seungcheol kisses the camera, _gross_ , “Still, do it for me, yeah?”

“Whatever!”

“Bye, Gyu.”

“Bye.”

Mingyu sighs, leaning back on his desk chair, staring at the blurry image of Seungcheol before he clicked on the ‘end call’ button. He gets a few moments of thoughtless silence, but his mind runs full speed again upon grazing over what he learned before the call.

He might be up to something, but he won’t tell.

 

* * *

 

Wonwoo’s having a bad day.

Scratch that, Wonwoo’s having a normal day. Wonwoo hasn’t had a good day in so long that it’s normal now; but he hasn’t broken a Xerox machine yet, and there’s a first time for everything.

That being said, he manages to jam a machine five minutes into walking inside the printing room. The whirring sound it makes as it tries to latch on to paper makes Wonwoo’s head ache, but he’s too scared of getting in trouble to ask for help, so he endures as he presses on random buttons that seem appropriate for the problem; which only creates another problem, and manages to make Wonwoo panic enough to curse out loud.

_This isn’t even in his job description, for fucks sake!_

Wonwoo was about to resort into kicking the machine before stomping outside, leaving it to be the next man’s problem, when he hears the door open and sees a short lass holding a folder filled with papers.

She seems to take in his distressed state, leg pulled back and aimed at the loud machine, looking like a deer in headlights with his messy hair and shaky stare, as she says, “Are you okay?”

_No. Please help me._

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Wonwoo puts his foot down and laughs awkwardly as he scratches the back of his neck, “do you need any help, ma’am?”

The woman looks at him apprehensively, which is understandable because he must look like a madman right now; a madman ready to attack even an innocent little photocopy machine.

“No, no, uh, I’ll use the other room.” The woman smiles kindly at him, or tries to, at least. She looked like she was grimacing.

She steps out the room; softly pulling the door closed as if she’s afraid of aggravating the monster behind it even more, and Wonwoo’s frustration pushes him to shut his eyes and ball his hands into fists.

“Ugh, stupid thing!”

Wonwoo finally lands the kick on the machine, which starts to sputter continuously until it comes to a full stop, some smoke coming out from underneath it. Wonwoo’s eyes widen, his frantic breath filling the room as he waits for the smoke to disappear, and when it does, he tries to restart it; but it doesn’t respond at all.

_Oh no, did I break it? Fuck!_

He was so close to crying, why the hell did he even need to use this obsolete machine anyway? Why couldn’t he just note his boss’ instructions down on paper? Now he's going to lose his mind! Should’ve known that being lazy will only give him trouble.

The screen suddenly lights up, and Wonwoo’s heart fills with hope; when it displays the options menu, his heart almost leaps out of his throat in relief.

“Good machine.” He pats its side, and Wonwoo might be the craziest person in the entire office building today. But can you blame him? Things never seem to go his way and that’s sure to loosen up the bolts in anyone’s head. So he takes one last look at the machine he _almost_ broke, and gets out of there before anything bad happens again.

 

The red light glares bright at Wonwoo, daring him to disobey _one more time_ , but he doesn’t see it. Not when his heads is turned to his side as he rummages through his bag for his ID, so he walks straight past the sidewalk and into the pedestrian lane.

“Wonwoo! What the fuck!” He hears someone scream just before a honking cars zooms past him from behind, ice cold fear running through his spine and freezing him on the spot.

Wonwoo has absolutely no idea how he made it this long with his constant negligence of self-preservation.

A hand wraps around his upper arm and he gets speedily tugged onto the other side of the street. Wonwoo’s eyes are still wide in shock, and when he looks up, he sees a fuming Junhui looking down at him, “What were you doing, Won?! Are you trying to get yourself killed?!”

“I-I was looking for my ID.”

“Seriously?” Junhui asks, his voice loud as he scolds Wonwoo, and Wonwoo hates the feeling of being scolded, but he guesses he deserves it right now, “Are you doing this on purpose? Do I need to keep an eye on you every single second to make sure you’ll stay alive?”

Wonwoo can’t answer, can’t even look at him, he’s too ashamed of himself. Junhui’s probably so pissed at him right now, but Wonwoo wasn’t doing this on purpose; he was just distracted. Like he always is.

Junhui sighs at him, “Did you _at least_ get your ID?”

This makes Wonwoo peer at him, and he sees Junhui frowning at him, raising an eyebrow as if saying _‘well, did you?’,_ Wonwoo nods his head, sniffling, he feels like shit.

“Good,” Junhui sighs then shakes his head, he loops their arms together and starts walking, making Wonwoo follow him slowly, “C’mon then, we’ll be late for class.”

Wonwoo walks with Junhui’s arms looped around his until they’re in front of their college building, making sure that he doesn’t run into traffic and endanger his life again.

 

“Here.”

Something pokes at Wonwoo’s forearm, and he blinks his eyes slowly, seeing Junhui’s binder near his face, a single sticky note hanging out from a page. Confused, he picks his head up and takes it from Junhui, who only gives him a somber smile.

_Shit, did he fall asleep again?_

Wonwoo can’t keep doing this; he can’t keep falling asleep in class. He can’t mess this up just because he can’t stay awake long enough to finish a lecture, his stay in this university is hanging by a thin thread as it is, if he doesn’t get to understand his lessons then he’ll fail, and if his professor catches him nodding off in the middle of class then he might get disciplinary action, his scholarship–

Wonwoo’s face falls.

Junhui seems to read the look on his face, “You’re fine, Wonwoo. You needed the rest.”

But it’s not fine. Wonwoo can’t seem to believe that anymore.

“Wonwoo,” Junhui calmly tries, “get out of your head, it’s fine. Okay?”

“But-“ _I’m fucking up._

“Are you hungry?” Junhui cuts him off, “Let’s go to the café.”

“No, thanks. I have to study.” Wonwoo says, because he _really_ needs to study. (Truthfully though, he’s been trying to avoid going to that place ever since that free meal. He was too weirded out to pick anything up from the plate after reading the note; that, besides the fact that he doesn’t actually eat there, anyway.)

“Huh? We can study there.”

“I’m okay Jun, really. I’ll just stay at the library.” Wonwoo stands up from his seat, shoving his stuff in his bag before neatly tucking Junhui’s binder in it.

“Oh, well,” Junhui purses his lips, “I’ll just get lunch, yeah? I’ll meet you at the library afterward?”

Wonwoo offers him a small smile, chucking his backpack over his shoulder, “Sure. Just text me.”

“Alright, I’ll see you.” Junhui waves but then his expression turns serious, “Be careful, Won.”

“The library is literally a few steps away,” Wonwoo laughs, playfully pushing at Junhui’s shoulder, “what could possibly happen?”

“Knowing you…” Junhui teases, and Wonwoo remembers all his near-death experiences that Junhui has witnessed then his face turns red.

“Shut up.” He pushes past Junhui, his blush only getting worse as the boy’s laughter follows him outside the lecture hall.

“See ya later, Wonu!” Junhui screams, and when Wonwoo turns to look at him he’s waving like a little kid, the teasing glint still lingering in his smile.

Wonwoo almost flips him off, but he just waves back.

 

There’s something about the university library that makes Jeon Wonwoo feel like he’s bare and defenseless, like a single mistake would have people looking at him left and right; like he's being watched. It’s probably because it’s so quiet here, the whirr of the air-conditioning and the occasional footsteps being the only noticeable sounds, and anything varying from that would be a threat to the barrier of silence this place brings.

He loves the quiet, but right now, it just feels wrong.

Because he's sneezing up a storm and creating enough noise for their entire table to share.

But Wonwoo can’t help it, okay? He’s been combating the flu since earlier this week, and it’s becoming very difficult to stifle his sneezes in his hands. He’s sneezed more than three times already and it’s getting embarrassing; he doesn’t want to disturb the peace of the people studying here.

When Wonwoo sneezes again, he hears a chair being pulled near him, maybe across from him? And he worries that it could be the librarian coming over to politely ask him to leave; but he almost falls out his seat once he opened his eyes.

“You okay there?” The boy asked with a tilt of his head; and Wonwoo can’t breathe, either because he’s afraid or he’s so damn shocked to see who’s in front of him.

It was that gray-haired boy he bumped into on the quad a few weeks back.

The boy chuckled, “Looks like you’re not, huh?”

Wonwoo just keeps staring at him, wide-eyed, because he doesn’t exactly know what to say to him. His heartbeat’s getting dangerously quicker by the second, and _what the hell is this boy doing to him?_

“Do you think I could help you?” The boy’s voice is deep, exactly like the first time he heard it. Maybe it sounds even deeper, something laced into his tone that sounds an awful lot like seduction.

_Shit, it might be working._

Wonwoo snaps out of it, his brow furrowing, “What?”

“Oh, right. I have to introduce myself first.” The boy chuckles again, folding his arms on the desk, “My name’s Kim Mingyu. I believe we’ve met before?”

The boy’s smile is a menacing cocktail that Wonwoo’s brain can’t stop drinking in; it makes him feel lightheaded. And that captivates Wonwoo as much it scares him. 

“I–yeah, it wasn’t the most pleasant encounter.” Wonwoo finally shifts his gaze away from the boy, instead focusing on the watch perched on his wrist. _Okay, that looks expensive._

“Definitely not.” Mingyu says, sitting straight in his chair, “And I still haven’t gotten my apology, Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo’s head snaps up, _how the hell does he know my name?!_

“Oh don’t look at me like that, please.” Mingyu smirks and Wonwoo feels his blood go cold.

“How do you know my name?!” Wonwoo asks through gritted teeth, trying his best to keep quiet, they’re still in the library, after all.

“Your friend mentioned it when he was playing Prince Charming,” Mingyu’s smile _still_ hasn’t left his face, and Wonwoo feels like it’s mocking him, “Was he any help at all?”

“He got you to fuck off didn’t he?”

A sense of pride comes over him when he sees how Mingyu’s face falters at his words. But Mingyu quickly regains the stupid smile, “I just didn’t have any time to waste then.”

Mingyu leans forward on the table, making Wonwoo gasp as he leans back.

Their position causes them to stare at each other, and Wonwoo’s eyes blow wide at how close Mingyu’s face is. He can see a mole at the tip of the other’s nose, and he didn’t even notice that before because he was too frantic to observe him properly. Wonwoo tries to look away, but then Mingyu flashes such a sweet smile, his pointy canines making an appearance; he smiles like he wasn’t talking like a complete asshole a just few seconds earlier.

Wonwoo’s heart is frantically bumping in his chest like it wants to get out. Wonwoo _hates_ it _._

Mingyu’s lips purse, but the smile is still there as he leans back in his chair, “But I do now.”

Wonwoo glares at him, willing his heartbeat to slow down, but it still persists; like the mere presence of the boy is egging it on.

_It needs to get a grip._

“What do you want from me dude?” Wonwoo asks, exasperated.

Mingyu huffs, “It’s not what I want from you, it’s what I can give you.”

Now, Wonwoo isn’t a fan of anything related to taking favors from people he’s indebted to (Is he even _actually_ indebted to this guy? He isn’t sure. But he feels like It.), so the moment Mingyu says that, he feels his guard go up.

“What?” He asks cautiously, and Mingyu smiles at him again.

“I have a proposition to make.” Mingyu laces his fingers together and places his chin over them, “I know you’ve been financially… struggling.”

This makes Wonwoo’s ears perk up. Not in interest, but in apprehension; nobody except for Junhui knows about his background, and he feels something heavy in his chest when the thought of Junhui letting it slip to someone else crosses his mind.

_No, Junhui won’t do that to me._

“And I can help you with that, just do me a little favor,” Mingyu continues but Wonwoo doesn’t want to listen anymore, whatever he’s talking about is too intimate for Wonwoo, nobody else is supposed to address that to him, “just pretend to be my boyfriend. And I’ll pay you more than what you can get with three part time j–“

Wonwoo doesn’t let him finish, “I’m not interested.”

“You weren’t even listening,” The boy in front of him whines with a frown on his face, which Wonwoo would’ve found endearing if it weren’t for the crap coming out of his mouth, “I can even consider it as your apology for last time, how’s that?”

“I don’t owe you an apology.” Wonwoo sets his face into a glare, turning away from Mingyu and unlocking his phone to check for Junhui’s messages. He frowns when he sees that there were none.

“And like I said,” Wonwoo turns to Mingyu again, pinning him down with his stare before continuing, “I’m not interested.”

“Stubborn.” Mingyu crosses his arms over his chest with a raised brow, “It’s your loss.”

“I don’t believe I’m losing anything.” Wonwoo says, his face still set in a glare as he stands his ground.

Mingyu simpered, huffing as he takes his bag from the desk and stands up.

“I have no idea why I’m even associating myself with someone who wears rags,” Mingyu shakes his head and looks Wonwoo up and down, sizing him up, and behind Wonwoo’s glare, he suddenly feels underdressed, “guess I really am desperate, huh?”

Wonwoo didn’t have time to feel offended, let alone answer, because Mingyu already turned around and took off. He watches the boy’s back, broad and tense, as he walks past rows and rows of tables and out the double doors of the library. Wonwoo can’t believe that every single encounter he has with that boy ends with him watching the other go. But what he can’t believe even more is that the boy _knows_ about him, that secret part Wonwoo doesn’t like talking about. He tries not to hold it against him, tries to understand what he wanted to get out of that, but he can’t seem to make sense of it no matter how much he turns it around in his mind.

He feels suffocated with what happened in this small space, and he can’t take it. So he picks his things up and leaves the library, not bothering to check his notifications for Junhui’s text anymore.

 

Maybe it was because he was walking an unhealthy distance, or maybe it was because of what happened earlier at the library, but Wonwoo felt cold and light-headed in the middle of his trek home.

His vision started to sway and he had to lean against the wall of a hostel, trying to regain his balance; only to end up stumbling over and almost falling face first into the pavement, “Fuck, okay.”

Wonwoo sits down, setting his back against the building. He rummages his backpack for his phone, and upon unlocking it, he sees 8 new messages and 3 missed calls from Junhui. He swipes to check the messages first.

 

**from: jun**

_-  won? on my way to the library now!_

_-  I brought you donuts : >>_

 

The first missed call comes after that, Wonwoo continues to read.

**from: jun**

_-  i’m already here, but wru??_

_-  are we playing hide and seek? :’)_

_\-  seriously, jeon wonwoo,,,, the doughnut’s getting cold!!_

Then the second missed call.

 

_-  did u go home without me? :((_

_-  at least answer my calls… I’m getting worried ;;((_

_-  if u really went home alone i will hate u_

The third missed call was timed after the last message, and Wonwoo wants to smack Junhui for spending money on him, but he can’t really do that now, can he?

Wonwoo moves to press the call button to ask for Junhui’s assistance, but his phone rings before he could do so, flashing Junhui’s contact on the screen. Wonwoo presses the green button.

 _“Hello? Wonwoo? What the hell, where are you?”_ Junhui says from the other line. He sounds out of breath.

“Hey Jun, sorry, I went out early.” Wonwoo pauses, and when Junhui doesn’t say anything he continues, “I’m really sorry, okay? But can you, like, help me?”

 _“I’ve been walking around the library trying to find you in between every bookshelf because you weren’t in any of the tables or study desks,”_ Junhui says, and Wonwoo feels bad, he can almost hear Junhui’s pout through the phone, _“but what? What happened? Where are you?”_

“Yeah, I don’t feel so good,” Wonwoo says, coughing once because his voice was sounding husky, “I’m at that brick-walled building, about two streets away from Uni.”

Junhui curses under his breath, _“I know where that is. I’m on my way, Won. Hang on.”_

“Okay, I’ll just. I’ll wait here.” Wonwoo mumbles, he lands the back of his hand over his neck and winces, he’s _burning._

 _“I’ll be quick.”_ Junhui hangs up, and Wonwoo puts his phone back in his backpack.

Wonwoo’s eyes slip shut as he hugs his backpack close to his body, using it as a makeshift pillow to lay his head on, which, by the way, is throbbing in pain. Wonwoo has absolutely no idea how his condition got this worse in the span of a few hours.

He doesn’t know how long it takes, but he hears footsteps approaching him fast, and he looks up from where he was laying his head down to see Junhui running to him with a paper bag in between his fingers; his bangs sticking to his forehead because of sweat.

Junhui smiles at him the moment he spots him, and crouches to his level when he gets close enough, “Hey, Won.”

“Hey.” Wonwoo says, his voice raspy, trying to give Junhui a smile.

Junhui brushes Wonwoo’s bangs from his face, and if he weren’t already red from his fever, then he’d be blushing furiously from the action by now. Then Junhui places the back of his hand over Wonwoo’s forehead and visibly cringes.

“Shit, Won. Your temperature’s so high. How come you didn’t tell me earlier?”

“I wasn’t feeling it earlier.” _False,_ Wonwoo’s been feeling sick since two days ago.

Junhui frowns, he knows Wonwoo’s lying, “We can’t do anything about that now, let’s just get you home, bud.”

Wonwoo hums in agreement, “Help me up please.”

Junhui pulls Wonwoo up to his feet, but to Wonwoo’s surprise, he crouches in front of him right after.

“What are you doing?” Wonwoo asks and Junhui looks over his shoulder to give him a smile.

“Hop on, I’ll carry you.”

“What? No!” Wonwoo says, and he says it with enough force to make him dizzy.

“Quit being stubborn, Wonwoo. You can’t even stand straight.” Junhui still hasn’t gotten up from where he’s crouched, and the word he used to describe him resonates in Wonwoo’s mind.

_Stubborn._

It’s the same word that Mingyu kid called him earlier, and Wonwoo wonders if that’s how Junhui described him.

“C’mon. You need to lay down.” Junhui snaps him out of his thoughts, shimmying his shoulders.

Wonwoo slowly leaned down and wrapped his arms around Junhui’s neck, and he feels Junhui grip his legs firmly before standing up, and the touch sears Wonwoo’s skin. He tries to position his head in a way that he wouldn’t be grazing Junhui’s cheek with his, but it puts too much strain in his neck and hurts him, so he just places his chin on Junhui’s shoulder.

 _Shit,_ he thinks, _this is such a dangerous position for me._

Wonwoo really wouldn’t be able to take it if he pops a boner while being carried by Wen Junhui. That’d kill him.

Fortunately, his little friend cooperates, and the two of them walk in silence towards his dorm. The silence is purely external though, because Wonwoo’s mind wouldn’t stop telling him to ask Junhui about Kim Mingyu and how he knew about his goddamn past.

Junhui breaks the silence as he hikes Wonwoo back up, “You’re really light, Won. You should really eat more.”

Wonwoo doesn’t answer, instead he voices out as well, “Did you tell anyone?”

“What?” Junhui turns his head towards Wonwoo, who flinches back in surprise, almost causing him to fall. Junhui catches him just in time, though.

“Jesus, Wonwoo, don’t do that!”

“Sorry, I was just,” Wonwoo tightens his grip on Junhui; his eyes slipping shut involuntarily, “surprised.”

“I figured.” Junhui smiles, “But what were you talking about?”

Wonwoo hesitates, but he’s almost asleep and he slurs the words out quickly, “Did you tell anyone about what happened to me and my family? “

“What are you talking about, Wonwoo?” Wonwoo has his eyes closed, but he knows Junhui’s frowning, “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

He knew that, Wonwoo knew that, and he hums in approval as he allows himself to nuzzle closer to Junhui.

“Why? Did someone hurt you again?”

Wonwoo didn’t answer, he was already fast asleep.

 

”Fuck, my head.”

Wonwoo’s eyes burn from the bright light spilling through the windows above his head and his mouth tastes like stomach acid. He feels like absolute _shit._

“Oh, you’re awake.” His roommate says, Wonwoo turns to look at him and sees that he’s towel drying his hair, only another towel wrapped around his waist.

“Yeah,” Wonwoo groans, “what time is it?”

“About twelve.”

“Shit, I have 10am classes.” Wonwoo pushes the heels of his palms over his eyes, trying to soothe the burning feeling without reaching for his eye drops.

“Yeah. No. I think you should rest.” His roommate said while putting on deodorant. Why he couldn’t do that in the shower, Wonwoo doesn’t know, “Plus, your boyfriend was pretty worried about you yesterday.”

“My what?”

“Your boyfriend?” The boy raises an eyebrow, “You know? That cute Chinese guy.”

“You mean Junhui?”

“Yeah. Him.” The boy confirms, “He was pretty cool yesterday, taking care of you and every–“

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Oh,” His roommate stops brushing his hair, tuning to him and giving a questioning look, “I mean, are you sure? The way he treated you last night was… pretty boyfriend.”

Wonwoo blanches, yesterday’s event’s flashing back in his mind. He doesn’t even remember anything past opening their dorm room, “Yeah, I’m quite sure.”

“Well… uh,” His roommate says, scratching the back of his head like he doesn’t know what to do with himself, “this is awkward.”

“It’s –it’s fine.” Wonwoo rolls over to check for his phone underneath his pillow, finding three new messages from Junhui.

 

**from: jun**

_-  ey wonu… i cooked some soup for u last night, there should be some leftovers for u to heat up. eat some of it then drink some medicine, okay??? I left those in your medicine cabinet_

_-  also, there’s some water on the bedside table, just thought you should know_

Wonwoo looks at the table and sure enough, a glass of water was sitting on top of it. He smiles before checking the last message.

 

**from: jun**

_-  and don’t u even think about coming to class today!!! i can cover for u, yeah? pls just rest love u_

Wonwoo blushes at the last part of the text, trying so hard not to think about it too deeply. Junhui always says shit like this; Wonwoo should be used to it.

But then Wonwoo remembers his roommate’s words. _Boyfriend?_ God, it sounded so nice. How fucking nice would it be to have Junhui taking care of him like that and _actually_ getting to be his boyfriend?

Absolutely fucking nice. The nicest thing in the world.

“Dude, are you okay?” His roommate’s voice breaks him out of his thoughts, taking in the stupid smile on his face with an expression Wonwoo doesn’t like.

“Yeah, uh. Fever’s probably getting to me.”

The boy nods his head slowly, “Right. Better get that checked.” He sprays some cologne on.

“Oh, I also ate some of the soup from the kitchen.” He halts when he sees the murderous glare Wonwoo sends him; but he holds his hands up and continues, “There’s still a lot, don’t worry. And it tastes good.”

Wonwoo blinks at him, watching as the boy moves toward the bedroom door.

“Shame that boy isn’t your boyfriend, he’s a good cook.” He says, and with Wonwoo’s remaining strength he throws a pillow at him, but it only hits a closed door as his roommate laughs outside.

That much movement makes his head spin, coupled with the thoughts the boy just placed into his mind, Wonwoo wants to scream.

 

* * *

 

Mingyu is thirteen, and he believes that that’s unlucky.

Because right now, he’s a crying mess as he keeps his grip tight on his nanny, Miss Bella’s, dress.

“Miss Bella,” Mingyu sobs, “please don’t go, please!”

The woman frowns at his distressed state, and Mingyu knows it’s because she doesn’t like seeing him cry. She bends down and wipes at his cheek, “Mingyu.”

Her soft voice only made him cry harder, _will I never hear that again?_

“Miss Bella, please stay. You don’t hate me too, do you? Please stay!”

The woman’s face only crumples further upon the mention of him being hated. Mingyu cried to her one night, a few years ago, spilling his feelings of being unloved by his own parents because he was always pushed aside and neglected. Her soft lullabies shushed him to sleep that night, and ever since then, Mingyu had been close to her.

“I can’t stay, darling.” She was still wiping at his tears and petting his hair, “My family needs me.”

“But I need you too! Who will take care of me when you leave?”

Miss Bella doesn’t answer, instead bending down to give him a hug.

“ _I’ll miss you. Be good, yes?”_ She says this in her own language, and Mingyu understands completely.

 _“Yes.”_ Mingyu replies.

“ _Good. Now stop crying, love.”_ She smiles at him, and Mingyu tries to give a watery smile back.

The door opens, revealing Mingyu’s mother, “Miss Bella, you may go now.”

The woman utters her thanks, and it went as a blur as every single one of her belongings got carried out of the house and Mingyu was left to stare, teary-eyed, at her figure as she waves one last goodbye to him.

Mingyu breaks down in tears again when he doesn’t see the car she rode anymore. That’s how his mother finds him, leaning against the window with tears streaking his face, curled in on himself as he stares outside.

“Mingyu baby, stop crying.” His mom sits down on the window seat as well, before embracing him and letting him sob into her chest, “Mom will be with you from now on.”

Mingyu wanted to believe her.

But his mother never kept her promise. She still flew around the world like the wind took her every time it blew.

 

Mingyu came up with a brilliant idea. And it included swallowing his pride more than anything else.

But first things first, he had come to terms with the fact that he _might_ like Jeon Wonwoo, maybe just a little bit. He finally allowed himself to feel a sliver of _something_ for that boy, even if he vowed to himself that he won’t let it influence everything he does. And while finding out about Wonwoo’s past gave him plenty of opportunities to be able to come closer to him, he still chose the path he’s more familiar with.

And that’s turning him into a fake boyfriend.

Sure, it sounds dehumanizing and terribly thought out, but Mingyu will get something to gloat about and piss his parents (his father, mostly) off; and he can give more than whatever he takes in the arrangement so there should be no problem.

Except, perhaps, getting Wonwoo alone.

Mingyu doesn’t need an audience in his plan, all he needs is Wonwoo and the sweet sound of his agreement; but it’s harder than he thought, especially when Wonwoo’s latched onto a certain boy 24/7.

It grinds Mingyu’s gears when he tries to talk to Wonwoo and Junhui just appears straight out of nowhere, every time, sweeping Wonwoo off his feet and making him blush. It’s a disgusting sight, really.

But luck definitely is on his side today, because he just saw Wonwoo getting out of his lecture hall _alone._ That was something he’s been waiting for since the beginning of time, and now that he’s seen it he feels more confident that ever.

Wonwoo seems to be heading to the library, so Mingyu walks to his own locker to take his belongings before following suite.

 

Leaning against a bookshelf when you’re above six-feet tall isn’t exactly the most casual looking position, but Mingyu has to make do with it because this position gives him a perfect view of the pretty boy in glasses. Who’s sneezed a couple of times now, he notes, maybe he should buy him antihistamines outside before coming back to talk to him.

_Nah, he’ll be okay._

Mingyu smiles as Wonwoo scrunches his nose up, scratching at the tip with a knuckle. (Why was he even smiling at that? What kind of whipped behavior is that?)

He walks towards Wonwoo, and the boy smashes his head into his hands to muffle the sound of another sneeze, just in time for Mingyu to slip into the chair in front of him. Wonwoo still has his face buried into his hands, looking like he’s trying to hide from someone.

Wonwoo lowers his hands and Mingyu watches in amusement as Wonwoo switches from one emotion to the next as he looks at him, “You okay there?”

The boy in question just stares, which would’ve been weird if he wasn’t so damn attractive, but he is; so Mingyu just stares back.

Though Mingyu didn’t come here to stare (even if he’d be more than willing to do _just_ that), so he chuckles to break their little staring contest, “Looks like you’re not, huh?”

_Of course he isn’t, Mingyu. You’ve watched him sneeze his nose off earlier, you should know._

“Do you think I could help you?”

Mingyu revels in the way Wonwoo gapes at him. He knows he looks good, he’s always reminded by the amount of girls who whisper about him when he walks past them; but receiving attention like this from someone like _Wonwoo_ is a different thing altogether.

“What?” Wonwoo furrows his brows. _Adorable_.

Mingyu has his entire speech planned out, had envisioned it clearly in his head, now all he has to do is execute it.

“Oh, right. I have to introduce myself first.” Mingyu smiles, making sure his voice is confident; the way his father always looked like when he was trying to close a huge corporate deal, “My name’s Kim Mingyu. I believe we’ve met before?”

“I–yeah, it wasn’t the most pleasant encounter.” Wonwoo wasn’t looking at him anymore. Mingyu feels like the boy’s losing interest and he doesn’t like that.

_Time to surprise him I guess._

“Definitely not.” Mingyu agrees, he still wishes that day went differently; but it can’t be changed, so he decides to tease him instead, “And I still haven’t gotten my apology, Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo looks back at him, his face looking like he’s been splashed with a glass of water. _Got him._

“Oh don’t look at me like that, please.”

“How do you know my name?!”

The surprise in his voice amuses Mingyu. Catching people off guard is one of his specialties, and he’s pleased to see that he’d done it again. He even anticipated Wonwoo’s question, an answer already up his sleeve.

He’s got this all planned, in fact, he might even get a few kicks out of it, “Your friend mentioned it when he was playing Prince Charming,” Mingyu’s trying to make Junhui look bad, which was a low blow even for him, but he’s honestly willing to use any attack right now, “Was he any help at all?”

“He got you to fuck off didn’t he?”

_Well, that didn’t work._

Mingyu really tries to keep his expression in check, he didn’t expect something like that from Jeon Wonwoo, but what did he expect, really? This dude started flaming on him the first time they met after he refused to apologize.

He recovers, quickly flashing another one of his smiles, “I just didn’t have any time to waste then.”

Mingyu doesn’t know what comes over him, but he leans over the table confidently, his face close to Wonwoo’s. He stares at the boy –who’s now wide eyed and visibly holding his breath– and takes in the details of his face. He isn’t wearing any cover up, Mingyu doesn’t remember him wearing some either on their first meeting, maybe Wonwoo isn’t a fan. _It suits him_ , Mingyu thinks; his natural face was flawless save for the few stray acne scars on the far side of his cheeks. Mingyu notices some moles lying on the apples of his left cheek as well, forming a shape that reminds Mingyu of an asterism he learned in astronomy, _the summer triangle._ Mingyu _likes_ it. He can’t believe he’d come to like something like that on someone’s face. Mingyu can’t control the smile that slips into his lips.

He notices their proximity, and the same heart that had built its home at the pit of his stomach with the number of times he’s been disappointed started to climb up and lodge itself in his throat.

He purses his lips in fear of throwing his heart up right then and there, and tries to come back to what he was trying to say earlier, “But I do now.”

“What do you want from me dude?”

_Just you._

Mingyu huffs, annoyed with himself, “It’s not what I want from you, it’s what I can give you.”

Mingyu notices how Wonwoo stiffens, and he’s afraid that Wonwoo might not be listening to him anymore, but Wonwoo replies, which makes Mingyu smile, “What?”

“I have a proposition to make.” Mingyu begins with his elaborate little arrangement, lacing his fingers together and placing his chin over them like he’s a mafia’s godfather, “I know you’ve been financially… struggling.”

He initially didn’t know how to phrase that without sounding more offending or threatening than it already is, so Mingyu settles with that.

“And I can help you with that, just do me a little favor,” He continues, and Wonwoo’s still looking at him but his face is void of any emotion; it doesn’t stop Mingyu,  “just pretend to be my boyfriend. And I’ll pay you more than what you can get with three part time j–“

“I’m not interested.”

 _He isn’t even listening!_ Mingyu thinks. And he voices out just as much, trying to reiterate his deal. But the last part obviously sets Wonwoo off; and he tells Mingyu off like the first time they met, minus the finger pointing. He averts his eyes to his phone and Mingyu watches as it deepens his frown further.

“And like I said,” The two of them have matching sour expressions, but Wonwoo’s is more on the angry side, and Mingyu will admit, he’s a bit intimidated by the coldness in his stare, the way his voice drops an octave, “I’m not interested.”

“Stubborn.” Mingyu’s face actually falls this time, his arms crossed over his chest with a raised brow, “It’s your loss.”

Mingyu doesn’t even hear Wonwoo’s next words; he’s too pissed to do so. He’s never gotten such a hard time at convincing someone to do his bidding, and just talking to Wonwoo like this has gotten to his last nerve. He stands to get the hell out of there, but not before getting his last words out.

“I don’t even know why I’m associating myself with someone who wears rags,” Yet again, Mingyu lets his anger get the best of him, closing him up and transforming him into an insult generator, “guess I really am desperate, huh?”

Mingyu turns and speed walks out the library, his shoulders square on their own as he puts his guard up; successfully making himself look like the most unapproachable God there is. He doesn’t even think about looking back.

 

It’s only when he’s walking through the quad to get to his car that he realizes what he did, the words he said; and he groans. Maybe Mingyu’s better at making himself look like the bad guy more than he is at catching people off guard.

It’s fine though. What’s done is done; he guesses he’ll just have to keep up the act.

If Wonwoo can’t be moved by friendly negotiation, then Mingyu can be an asshole until he’s recognized. In fact, that’s what he’s good at.

 

Needless to say, that little fiasco left Mingyu in a bad mood.

So now he’s driving around the university’s vicinity and wasting gas, blasting the music in his car, as if its volume would be enough to knock the negativity from his head, as if he wasn’t just contributing to both air and noise pollution.

He didn’t care. He was upset and disappointed _._ He doesn’t care about anything else right now.

It’s about the third time he’s circled the same block when he notices something outside from his peripheral view. He lowers his speakers’ volume, slowing down the car and parking a little ways further on the opposite side of the street. He thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, but he squints and sees the familiar jacket Wonwoo was wearing earlier.

_What the hell is he doing?_

The boy had his legs pressed to his chest, and Mingyu can see that his bag was nestled between while his head laid on it sideways. He still had his glasses on, a bit askew on his face, and Mingyu can see that he had his eyes closed. Mingyu wonders what the hell he’s doing just sitting there, in public, and letting his guard down. What if he gets robbed?

_Is he crying? Is he hurt?_

He looked so small like this, Mingyu realized. He hasn’t seen the other boy curled in on himself like now, he’s always standing with his tall stature or sitting down with his broad shoulders open. Seeing him like this… it just made him look vulnerable.

He looked so weak; Mingyu has this sudden urge to protect him.

Screw him being an asshole, Mingyu _likes_ Wonwoo; he’s not just going to drive away and leave him like that. So, Mingyu turns the engine off, and was just about to get out of his car when he notices someone running towards Wonwoo.

His blood turns to ice when he sees that it’s none other than Wen Junhui.

The boy leans down to Wonwoo’s height, and when Wonwoo looks up, he brushes his bangs away from Wonwoo’s face and feels his temperature on his forehead. And just like that, every single negative emotion he’s been trying to wade off earlier came slamming back at him.

Mingyu clenches his jaw, the little touches Junhui gives to Wonwoo makes him feel helpless. Because, what the hell, he feels like he’ll never get to do that. And yeah, Mingyu might be a bit of a masochist, because he just sits there as Junhui and Wonwoo interact in their own little bubble; his heart thumping wildly in his chest. It’s when Wonwoo latches himself onto Junhui and gets carried by him that Mingyu snaps, buckling his seatbelt in and starting up his car. He doesn’t have anything to do here anymore; everything about staying here is such a waste of time.

He speeds past them, absolutely sure that they didn’t notice him, anyway.

Mingyu slams his foot on the gas. He beats two consecutive red lights, but that doesn’t matter; most of the red Mingyu sees is coming from his own eyes.

Mingyu keeps one hand on the steering wheel as he takes his phone into the other, dialing a number he never thought he’d dial outside the office.

“Director,” Mingyu grips the steering wheel, the veins in his hand standing out from how tight his grip is, “I need you to do something for me.”

 

* * *

 

Two days later, Wonwoo is feeling so much better.

Junhui was right, he needed the rest. And the boy kept his promise of covering for him in class, giving him the notes and homework, heck, Junhui even did some of his homework already. (Which Wonwoo doesn’t patronize, but Junhui insisted.)

Junhui checked up on him after class, and his roommate kept giving him knowing looks that he tried so hard to ignore; thankfully, Junhui didn’t notice him.

So when Wonwoo comes back to class, he doesn’t even feel sleepy! He was listening to his professors attentively the entire time. Junhui even ruffled his hair in congratulations when they were all dismissed.

He’s really happy about that.

Something that Junhui couldn’t keep in check, though, was Wonwoo’s job. He emailed his boss the night Junhui took him home, calling in sick for the next day; but he didn’t get a reply. And that worries Wonwoo more than anything else.

Walking into his office building, Wonwoo felt a sense of dread. He has no reason to dread this place, he’s been working here for two years, and his two day absence amidst his sickness was his first ever; so Wonwoo doesn’t know why he’s so nervous.

It’s like his first day all over again.

Unbeknownst to Wonwoo, it’s actually his last.

Wonwoo finds his boss leaning against his desk the moment he steps in to his cubicle, holding a long brown envelope and looking bored. Surprised, Wonwoo quickly bows at him and greets him, “Good morning, Sir.”

“Good morning, Wonwoo.” His boss greets back, setting the folder down and telling him to take a seat, which Wonwoo refuses, “It’s good that you’ve gotten better.”

“Yes, sir. All I needed was a bit of rest.” Wonwoo scratches the back of his neck, he isn’t sure where this conversation was going.

“Wonwoo, you have been a valuable employee to this company,” His boss starts, and Wonwoo anticipates his next few words.

_Am I getting promoted?!_

“But I believe it’s time we let you go.”

_What?_

“Sir?” Wonwoo asks, surely his ears were just deceiving him, right?

“I’m sorry, Wonwoo. You are relieved from your job.” His boss stands, taking the envelope again and handing it to Wonwoo.

Wonwoo just stares at the thing in his boss’ hand, refusing to believe the words he just heard.

“Sir, I don’t think I understand, I’m–“

“You’re fired, Wonwoo.”

There was no remorse whatsoever, like letting Wonwoo go is just letting go of another debt, a weight lifted off their backs. Wonwoo feels his heart drop.

“Sir, please, is it about me breaking the photocopy machine? Because I promise, sir, I promise it won’t happen again!” Wonwoo’s becoming frantic, nitpicking every single mistake he’s created in his job; that one being one of the most severe.

“You what!?” His boss frowns, and Wonwoo shouldn’t have mentioned that, “That’s all the more reason to fire you, you’re destructive and have no remorse for our machinery!”

_No remorse? You’re the one who’s firing me!_

Wonwoo’s head is a whirlwind, trying to find something to say to convince his boss to allow him to stay. But he notices some of his co-workers walking past his cubicle more times than what he deemed necessary, so he knows putting a show for them would only cause the rumor mill to spin the moment he steps out the building and that makes him anxious.

“Sir, sir please. I need this job.” Wonwoo whispers to his boss, “please, sir. Can’t you reconsider?”

His boss only shakes his head, “I can’t do that, the owner himself ordered me to do so.”

Wonwoo bites his tongue. He’s never met the owner of this damn establishment, so he sure as hell doesn’t have any arrears with the owner. He doesn’t understand anything on what’s happening.

“The owner, sir?” Wonwoo cautiously asks, his peace of mind slowly slipping. If it was the owner who got him fired then he really has no chance anymore.

“Yes, the owner. Mr. Kim.”

Mr. Kim? The only Kim he remembers having known is one of his middle school classmates; other than that, there’s only Kim Mingyu.

Wonwoo’s world stops. He remembers his little conversation with Mingyu, the way he talked back at him like he was a little kid; and how the boy just stormed off after insulting him. Wonwoo feels sick, why would anyone stoop this low to get back at someone?

This job was what’s keeping Wonwoo’s family afloat. Just the thought of his mother not being able to sleep just to earn money pushes Wonwoo to the brink of tears; she doesn’t deserve that.

But this was Wonwoo’s fault. If he had only known that Mingyu was the owner of this place, then he would’ve been much less harsh towards him; maybe Wonwoo should’ve remembered his mother’s words on being kind before acting like that.

More than anything though, Wonwoo’s mad; he’s mad at Mingyu, he wants to hurt him, he’s mad that something as petty as a disagreement caused him to lose something so valuable to him, and he’s mad that he’s so powerless to that single decision –that he can’t do anything about it now but to accept.

His emotions overwhelm him and push tears out of his eyes.

His boss hands him the folder, which he reluctantly takes. He feels his boss pat his back as he sobs, “I’m sure you’ll find something else out there, kid. But this place isn’t for you anymore.”

With that, his boss leaves; leaving Wonwoo to collect himself and his belongings.

 

The envelope contained his resume, and an amount of money he would usually receive on his 13th month pay; which is a lot, but Wonwoo has absolutely no idea how to manage it until he finds a new job.

He sends half of the money over to his family instead. Not knowing what to do with that much money, not trusting himself to hold on to it for too long.

He calls his mom later that night, wanting to hear her voice to calm himself down.

Wonwoo’s been looking for job listings the moment he got home; and when he said that the job he used to have was at top of the list of the jobs he could stomach, he wasn’t lying.  He still doesn’t have it in him to be a toilet plumber. And it frustrates him to no end, the fact that he had a wealthy upbringing and can’t handle those jobs being offered everywhere because he’s _sensitive._

He groans, waiting for his mother to answer the phone call while laying on his back.

“Wonwoo?” His mom’s sweet voice comes filtering through the speakers and that’s enough to lift Wonwoo’s spirits.

“Mom. I sent some money over there.” He voices out, getting straight to the point.

“What? It isn’t payday yet, Wonwoo.” His mother pauses, and it causes his throat to close up. Why does he feel like she knows? “What have you been doing, son?”

Wonwoo’s thoughts get ahead of him, the cheerful tone his mom emits, he doesn’t ever want to lose that, he knows how bad it gets when she’s sad; what if her sadness is caused by him this time? _I’m failing you, mom. I’m sorry._

“It’s my bonus payment mom,” Wonwoo chokes down his sobs, not wanting to let his mom know he was crying, “they said I was a good employee.”

He tries to keep his voice light, breathing deep and trying to control the hitch of his voice.

“Really? That’s really good, son! But you should’ve kept the mon–“

“Can you sing to me, mom?” He cuts her off. He doesn’t want her to praise him when there’s nothing to praise. He’d rather hear her sing to him instead.

“What?” His mom chuckles, “You’re full of odd requests today, aren’t you?”

Wonwoo hums; and he hears his mom sigh before she starts with a familiar tune.

Wonwoo wipes at his eyes before closing them, the last thing he hears is the sweet tune of his mother’s voice before he drifts off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Mingyu is fifteen, and he’s watching the second Iron Man movie in their lounge for the first time. He was alone, obviously, nobody in this household cared enough to accompany him; they were all too _busy_.

Halfway into the movie, a scene catches his attention more than all the others.

Howard Stark was introducing another one of his innovations, when a young Tony pops from under the table and plays with the miniature train.

_Why do I feel like I know where this is going?_

Just as Mingyu expected, Tony is scolded and removed from the scene; and watching that happen hit too many sore spots for Mingyu, everything about it felt personal, familiar, if you may.

With a frown on his face, he reaches for the remote and turns the screen off, his willingness to watch anything past that having gone out the window. He walks out the movie lounge with a heavy heart.

Mingyu never got to see Howard Stark calling Tony his greatest creation. Maybe he’s never meant to.

 

All his life, Mingyu’s been treated like an asset.

When he was young, he felt like that young Tony Stark in movies, always being removed from the executive scene, his father always so busy. It happened so many times that Mingyu grew into it; he learned to get used to being ignored, pushed away, or scolded.

He grew a hard shell that turned him cold, the needy and affectionate boy from his childhood forgotten; it made him resilient to everything his parents (or anyone else, for that matter) could inflict on him.

But his heart was still there, somewhere in his chest; he can conjure it through creating art, going to museums, studying anything related to architecture. Those were probably the only few things that could make him feel his heart.

When he turned sixteen, though, Mingyu was terrified to find out that his heart beats in an unconventional way.

In the middle of sketching, he realized that the dominant features of his abstracts were mostly male, and he hadn’t been consciously deciding on that; he just thought they were more, well, _desirable._

At first, he didn’t want to give any meaning to it, but the longer he observes himself, the more he couldn’t stop himself from thinking _it._

_Am I gay?_

The answer comes to him in the form of a dream.

He wakes up with the front of his boxers wet, sweat lining his forehead, his breath heavy.

He won’t ever forget the faceless man that pushed him to his release in his dream, so he draws his body; trying to capture the curves and lines of that person he didn’t know, He draws him until the only memory he has of him is his illustration.

He doesn’t tell anybody, but he accepts himself and moves on.

 

Like I said, Mingyu got used to being brushed off; so imagine his surprise when suddenly, he’s being pulled into the world that so fiercely turned him away.

Too soon, his father was already pestering him about running a damn company that’s never cared enough to nurture his presence.

“Mingyu, tomorrow you’ll be observing the board meeting, just to see how it flows; maybe you can even take its minutes.” His father says, and Mingyu has a hard time keeping his scowl out his face.

“Don’t you have a secretary for that.” Mingyu mumbles under his breath.

“What was that?”

“I said sure, dad.”

Mingyu started being pulled out from his classes to sit and observe board meetings, make rounds in the office grounds, check on the stocks that he never fucking understood.

He hated it. Every single part of it.

But the sheer force of his father’s will pushed him to obey.

 

When it came to his senior year in high school, Mingyu decides to discuss his course options with his father.

But maybe options isn’t the right word to use, not when they're being dismissed.

“Architecture? Liberal Arts? Mingyu, these will get you nowhere!”

Mingyu’s starting to believe that everything will get him nowhere unless it’s his father’s choice.

“But dad, those are what I’m good at. I think as long as I like what I’m doing, I’ll be going a long way.” Mingyu tries to argue.

His father makes a mocking face, Mingyu questions why he even thought talking to him about this was a good idea.

“Mingyu, taking something up in business won’t only take you everywhere, it’ll put food on your table,” His father says leaning back on his desk, “a feast, even.”

“But, I don’t like business dad.” Mingyu grits his teeth.

“What?” His father leans forward on his desk, “Your whole life revolves around business, yet you dare talk like that? How ungrateful can you get?”

_Who the fuck says I like my life?_

“I’m– I didn’t come here to ask you what to choose, dad.” Mingyu says, “I’m just here to tell you what I _already_ chose.”

”Do you hear yourself? You think your choices will be good for you?” Mingyu hates being belittled like this, it makes his skin crawl to listen to his father; who’s just going in circles now, “I have absolutely no idea how much more disappointing you can get!”

This makes Mingyu snap, “You want to bet?”

Mingyu’s tired of being treated like he doesn’t amount to anything, he hates not having pride about who he is, what he loves; he’s tired of trying to fit in his father’s mold. For once in his life, he wants to be proud of himself,  “I’m gay!”

After Mingyu says that, there’s a ringing left in his ears, like a time bomb just anticipating it’s explosion.

And it explodes when his father’s face turns red, “You’re what?”

Mingyu’s left to deal with the debris digging into his skin from the daggers his dad send him, and he decides to face him head on, “You heard me, dad.”

His dad doesn’t say anything anymore; instead he shakes his head, before telling him to leave his office.

The next week, Mingyu finds his CSAT’s in the mail, the only thing missing was his chosen college; because his courses were all filled up, and they were all in the line of business.

Mingyu doesn’t know what else to do other than cry.

If his father doesn’t know how much more disappointed he could get at Mingyu, then Mingyu has absolutely no idea how much more discouraging he can be to his own son.

 

Mingyu chooses the most prestigiously expensive college that isn’t owned by his father and he believes he got the last laugh.

Truthfully, Mingyu hoped that accepting the predestined fate from his father would be their truce. Call it wishful thinking, but Mingyu hoped that this would finally get his father’s attention and approval.

But it never did.

 

Maybe that’s why people hate on Mingyu’s guts today; maybe somehow, the world managed to seep into the walls of his father’s office that day and watched as he disrespected him. Maybe the world had its eyes on him when he started dating his best friend to spite his father, maybe the way they did it was too much for them.

The said best friend was seated across from him right now, inside the café he owns, talking about how unfair the country's education system was.

Mingyu feels terrible about dragging Minghao into his shit in the past, he’s guilty that this boy keeps bumping into Mingyu’s self-inflicted apocalypse; but Minghao is stronger than the both of them combined, and he protected Mingyu against everything, and after all the shit he’s been through because of Mingyu, he stayed.

So Mingyu feels like an absolute asshole, because he’s going to ask him to do something bad for him _again_.

“Hao,” Mingyu suddenly says, derailing Minghao’s long and winding opinion on how to make studying feel better.

“Yeah.” Minghao cautiously eyes him, eyes already trailing to where his fingers are scratching his wrists.

Mingyu looks at Minghao head on, his brain already coming up with answers to Minghao’s possible questions, “Can you bring someone back to China for me?”

“What?”

 

* * *

 

Wonwoo’s restless the entire walk to school.

He keeps thinking about Kim Mingyu and the stupid authority he held over Wonwoo’s future, his lost job, where to find a _new,_ equally paying job, and how he hasn’t told _any_ of this to Junhui.

_Crap._

Wonwoo doesn’t know how to tell his best friend without getting him all worked up and overly-protective, so he thinks the most about telling him everything without telling him about _Mingyu;_ because whatever trouble Mingyu spells, Wonwoo wants to keep Junhui away from that.

But Wonwoo’s surprised to see that Junhui isn’t in his usual seat, instead seeing both of their seats empty from the bottom of the lecture hall. Wonwoo walks towards their seats in confusion.

_Maybe Junhui had a late start?_

But Wonwoo’s left even more confused when he calls Junhui’s number. He wasn’t answering _any_ of his calls, and he’s already called thrice.

Wonwoo went from confused to worried, so he decides to check up on him by texting him.

 

**to: jun**

_-  yo_

_-  aren’t you coming to class today?_

_-  call me when you see this._

 

Wonwoo locks his phone and decides to wait it out by listening to their lectures in the meantime.

 

Class has already ended, Junhui didn’t attend, which was a first; and if Wonwoo was worried earlier, he’s in full-on panic mode now.

His calls keep being redirected to voice mail, and Wonwoo doesn’t want to look clingy so he only sends two of those and just drops the call the next few times.

Wonwoo might actually go insane, in between trying to look for a job; he’s now looking for Junhui as well.

Every single time his phone beeps Wonwoo checks to see if it’s from Junhui; only to be disappointed and see a PSA or some sort of data promo he can’t afford.

Wonwoo is so on edge to answer Junhui’s call when it comes, that he checks his phone during an interview for a job at a diner he just found. The manager coughs to get his attention back, “Mr. Jeon, are you paying attention?”

“I’m sorry, I just had to check.”

Needless to say, Wonwoo didn’t get that job.

 

Two days go by like this, and on the third, Wonwoo accepts that Junhui might’ve actually just _left._

Wonwoo has been friends with Junhui for so long that he somehow forgot that the boy isn’t from here, that he has a home overseas that he might want to go to because he feels homesick; one that he doesn’t have to tell Wonwoo about because he’s just a friend he occasionally saves from death.

This takes a toll on Wonwoo, but he can’t focus on that anymore; not when the remaining money from his last goddamn salary was wearing thin with every passing day. Wonwoo searches and picks up every flyer with a decent deal but so far, he hasn’t got the luck.

His unfortunate streak might be coming to get him again, and Wonwoo was _thisclose_ to giving up for today.

But luck takes his side at the last minute, only in a slightly unpreferable place.

It’s the same café he and Junhui used to study at, the same café where he got questionably free food with an even more questionable note, only now it has a _Now Hiring!_ sign written in the blackboard outside.

Wonwoo weighs his options in his head, and seeing that whatever sentimental thing that he’d like to forget ever happened here can be forgotten if he doesn’t try to remember; if he makes himself believe that this is just another café looking for employees.

Proving his desperation to bring food and comfort into his family’s home, Jeon Wonwoo confidently strides inside, and prays for the best.

 

Surprisingly, Wonwoo got the job easily.

He’d say too easy, because they’d only ask about some personal info and a bit about his work background, he didn’t even get the usual ‘Why should I hire you?’. But Wonwoo’s in no place to complain; if, anything, he should be thankful.

Weirdly enough, though, the _Now Hiring!_ sign isn’t there anymore the next day when Wonwoo arrives for his first shift.

 _They must’ve been looking for only one employee, then,_ Wonwoo thinks, _if that’s the case, I really am lucky._

Wonwoo shakes his head, everything about this place remains questionable, but if it pays, Jeon Wonwoo decides, it stays.

 

* * *

 

He parks his car outside on the street parallel to the café and watches the boy with glasses go into the store.

Tonight, he’s a man on a mission, and for the first time, the mission is as selfless as it can get.

While waiting for the boy to come back out, he plays a few games on his phone, sent a few text messages to his best friends here and there, and when he notices the same boy from earlier come out with a smile on his face, he knew it was a mission success.

He’s glad.

Glad that he might’ve indirectly redeemed himself to the pretty boy by getting him hired for a job at his best friend’s café; even though it’s his fault that the boy in glasses was unemployed in the first place.

It doesn’t matter, he doesn’t like discussing semantics anyway; as long as the boy was happy again, then he’s good.

He smiles a smile that quite mirrored the one glasses boy sported, then drives off.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello i am BACK and it's currently 4am where i'm from so i'm actually going cross-eyed after writing this MONSTER chap....... anyway this isn't beta-ed yet so let me know in the comments if u see any weird typos and stuff, also! please tell me what you think with what i did with mingyu's point of views! i experimented a bit with those :>>
> 
> sidenote: there are times when i wish wonwoo didn't ever meet mingyu, but he has to, okay? he has to. (ohohohohoo fuck it up miss chyl)
> 
> come scream at me on  
> twt: https://twitter.com/heykmg  
> cc: https://curiouscat.me/heykmg


	3. Nouvelle chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mingyu tries again. Wonwoo gives in. They try to make it work.

**“and every time we talk,**

**every single word builds up to this moment"**

The smell of caffeine permeates the air, while crepuscular rays of light filter through the windows and hit the tables, making them glimmer softly underneath the sound of nameless chatter which fills the enormous space that is Wonwoo’s new workplace.

He’s behind the counter for one of his afternoon shifts. It’s a Saturday, and he only has one class that stretches from nine to eleven pm, so he tries to make the rest of the day count by working here, serving slightly overpriced coffee and pastries to people who can’t seem to make better decisions other than to buy them. All in all, he can’t say he hates it; he’s being paid well and the only thing that doesn’t sit well with him is, well, not being able to sit for a couple of hours.

He gets free coffee, too. And that in itself is a win for him.

But, of course, some things are always there to test him.

 “I’m sorry, ma’am. We really don’t have hemp milk, perhaps almond milk can suf–“

“Are you sure? I can’t drink any other milk products, can you double check?”

“Yes, ma’am, I’m sure. But we still have a variety of drinks you can choose from.”

“You didn’t even check!”

Wonwoo purses his lips. He doesn’t need to check. He’s the one who does the inventory at the end of every day, and _never_ has a bottle of fucking _hemp milk_ graced this establishment. Who even drinks that, anyway? He can’t stand people and their weird food trends.

Wonwoo forces a smile through his simmering rage, “Let me do just that for you, ma’am.”

He knows better than to blow up at a customer, so instead he walks to the gray storage room only to scream into his hand for a good minute, curling his fingers and stomping his legs like a child in tantrum; only when he’s satisfied with himself does he take a deep, calming breath before walking back out to the woman.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. We really don’t have any _hemp milk_.”

That took a lot for him to say. Maybe hemp milk could be his newest curse word.

“Oh, okay.” The woman says, frowning at the menu behind Wonwoo’s head before pulling her phone out and walking away.

Something in Wonwoo’s neck ticks.

 _That’s it?_ She’s really not going to buy anything because there’s no hemp milk, when she managed to waste Wonwoo’s time and patience along with it?

Wonwoo sighs; he just knows that this is gonna be the start of a _really_ long day.

 

Wonwoo flips the last chair onto the table at the far side of the café and declares his job for the day done.

He inhales the scent of soap that he used to clean the tables and takes a look at his surroundings. The café’s empty and it’s gotten dark; the cold from outside makes the windows glaze over with moisture, orange streetlights emitting a bokeh effect as it tries to shine through it.

Wonwoo frowns.

It’s not that he doesn’t like the cold weather; it’s just that if the thick clouds hanging in the sky are responsible for the cold, then it might start raining any time soon and he didn’t bring an umbrella today, and he knows, from experience, that his luck with the weather hasn’t been preferable for a while.

“Wonwoo?”

His manager, Jeonghan, stands behind the counter in his casual wear. Seeing him without the tacky purple apron over his chest has always surprised Wonwoo, because the man had really nice body proportions that are hidden beneath his oversized sweaters; and he looked younger like this, he can almost pass as a college student too if Wonwoo didn’t know any better.

Jeonghan smiles, Wonwoo must’ve been staring again, “Want to come sit and have some coffee with me, kid?”

“No thank you, sir. It might start raining if I stay any longer,” Wonwoo looks back at the windows, and sure enough, small raindrops fall against it slowly in a drizzle, “I oughta get going.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes sir.”

“You can call me Jeonghan if we’re not in duty anymore, Wonwoo.” Jeonghan chuckles, “And if you say so, have a safe trip home, yeah?”

Not knowing what else to do, Wonwoo just puts his thumbs up and nods, before ducking his head away from the attention, walking towards the staff room to get his coat and making a run for it.

He walks out through the back door, and when he walks across the front of the shop again, he sees that Jeonghan wasn’t alone anymore.

A boy with brown hair and doe eyes was leaning against a lamp post and aiming a teasing smile at him while he locks up the shop, saying something that made Jeonghan laugh.

Wonwoo sees Jeonghan get up after locking the metal railings and hugging the other boy tightly, the other boy hugging back immediately, his arms winding around Jeonghan just as tight.

Something pinches in Wonwoo’s chest at the sight, but he has no idea why.

Wonwoo feels a fat raindrop land on his cheek. He doesn’t see what happens next, because he’s already running through the angry pelt of rain.

 

Wonwoo’s soaked when he gets home, his coat heavy over his shoulders and his shirt clinging to him like second skin. He discards his coat by the door and leaves it there, toeing his shoes and socks off as well.

Walking barefoot to the bathroom, he’s careful not to bump into anything or stay in one place for long enough to create puddles.

When he gets there he steps into the shower and takes a warm bath, the tension leaving his muscles as the heat envelopes him, evaporating the cold feeling of running across five streets under the pouring skies; all alone, with nothing but the goal of just getting to shelter.

It’s here, in his solitude, that Wonwoo begins to feel lonely.

The feeling hits him out of nowhere. Suddenly, Wonwoo wants nothing more than a tight hug, craving for any sort of affection from no one in particular. He once read that warm showers can substitute for human touch and he tries to test it out by staying under the shower spray until his fingers prune.

But nothing happens.

He walks out the bathroom with a towel ruffling through his wet hair, the same feeling clinging to him, only colder this time.

He finds his roommate passed out on his own bed, as usual. And as usual, he envies how easy it is to rest for the boy, when Wonwoo either can’t sleep because his body doesn’t want him too or because he has too many things to do to even bother with sleeping.

Out of instinct, Wonwoo reaches for his phone and dials his best friend’s number. The familiarity of Junhui’s voice would be enough for him, he’ll be fine with just that tonight; he doesn’t need tight embraces like the one shared by Jeonghan and his lover, Junhui talking to him is enough.

He plops himself down on his bed and listens to the ringtone with his eyes closed, only for them to flutter open once again when it sinks in that no one’s gonna answer, and it’s been like that for a week now.

He feels exhausted all of a sudden, the loneliness hitting him twice as hard knowing that his usual person isn’t there. It has him sighing into the darkness of the room, staring angrily at the ceiling as if it was at fault, before he turns off his phone and deflates into his mattress.

Wonwoo closes his eyes.

 

This isn’t happening.

No fucking way.

There is no way in hell Wonwoo is cursed enough to have Kim Mingyu walk past that door and into the café looking like an off-duty runway model.

Wonwoo must be hallucinating, must be getting off the high from the two shots of coffee he downed in one go earlier, he _must be_ because his heart is beating a hundred beats per minute at the sight of that, that _fiend_.

But he’s proven wrong when the musky scent of expensive aftershave hits his nose and he has to look, no _glare_ , up into the smirk the other flashes at him.

Wonwoo’s blood boils and he feels it surge, a fever that swells full within his veins.

_How dare he smile at me like that?_

Wonwoo honestly can’t think of anything past what happened last time, and it makes his pulse quicken even more, until it’s extinguished by the thought of how well that ended, and it leaves him to feel nothing but quiet resignation, his glare unwavering.

Mingyu must think he’s so easy to control, to push over until he’s forced to say yes, but he’s not giving in to this boy’s advances.

And if he thinks giving him a little visit in his new workplace to convince him again is a good idea, then he’s gonna be let down.

Wonwoo schools his expression into that of nonchalance and says, in his most stoic voice, “No.”

Mingyu’s mouth falls open, “You don’t take orders anymore?”

“What?”

“I came here for a cup of Americano but I guess… not?”

It was Wonwoo’s turn to be taken aback; so Mingyu didn’t come here to force his little deal onto him? He just wanted some coffee?

The boy in question puts his hands in his pockets and looks around, biting his lip while fidgeting about, making Wonwoo grow nervous.

Wonwoo wipes his hands on his apron; he fucked up, he seriously fucked up this time. Maybe the only reason he keeps getting fired is because he’s unnecessarily rude and has no manners.

He looks anywhere but at Mingyu, secretly glad that nobody is queuing up behind the boy and seeing how much of a mess Wonwoo’s turning himself into.

“So?” Mingyu asks and Wonwoo snaps his head up to see the boy raising an eyebrow at him, “Can I have a Venti Americano?”

“Anything else?” Wonwoo ducks his head while he punches the order in and he feels Mingyu’s gaze burn on his face.

Mingyu shakes his head, “I’m good.”

When Wonwoo calls Mingyu’s name a few minutes later, he hands him his coffee and almost drops the cup when he feels their fingers brush against each other. Wonwoo doesn’t understand the level of dislike he’s harbored for this boy to be repulsed just by a single touch that didn’t even last that long.

He doesn’t know if Mingyu notices it or not, because he walks out of the shop while taking a sip of his drink without even sparing another glance at Wonwoo.

Wonwoo, on the other hand, kept his eyes trained on the boy until he can no longer see him. He doesn’t know why, but even moments after Mingyu’s out of sight Wonwoo’s heart is still hammering angrily in his chest and perhaps Mingyu just might be Wonwoo’s cure for his chronic hypotension.

But all jokes aside, what just happened was weird. Wonwoo is, well, let’s just say that Mingyu left him _very_ confused.

 

* * *

 

 

The glare of the sunlight bouncing back from the glass windows of the café doesn’t deter Mingyu in the slightest; instead he opts for a more comfortable spot, driving his car forward until he’s out of reach.

He places his arms around the steering wheel and nuzzles his head on the crook of his elbow, careful not to put any pressure on the horns or he’ll attract the attention of everyone within a 10-meter radius. Or just that one boy he’s got his eyes on.

Mingyu watches Wonwoo, who’s behind the counter, wearing a plain purple apron and a small smile as he takes the order of a small girl in a school uniform. He feels his eyebrows meet.

_He wasn’t that polite when it was me on the other side of the counter._

He just keeps staring at Wonwoo, giggling at him softly when his lips form a little ‘o’ as he writes something on the cup and promptly erases it, bowing with a meek expression, as if apologizing. Mingyu sighs when Wonwoo turns around, and he keeps watching him with a pout.

The sunlight that kept beaming at Mingyu earlier doesn’t even reach where Wonwoo is despite its intensity, cutting off before the cash register because of the awning blocking it.

Wonwoo doesn’t look too bothered by that, though. In fact, he doesn’t even seem to notice the lack of natural light as he takes a straw and places it together with the cup on the counter.

Mingyu’s the only one who’s making a big deal out of it. He’s nitpicky like that.

Wonwoo calls for someone and the girl from earlier walks over to him. He looks down at the cup and _there it is again_. That little smile he reserves for the customers but Mingyu _never_ got.

It’s stupid, really, how much he’s sulking over a little smile.

Mingyu’s never felt this before, but he’s an attention whore, and the little tolerance Wonwoo shows towards him only pushes him to work for the attention further.

Mingyu stares at the coffee cup, but when Wonwoo lets go of it he raises his vision towards Wonwoo’s face.

It’s a marvel to look at, really. His expressions are so minute and barely there, the smile fading off his face once the girl leaves the café.

But its imprints are still in Mingyu’s head and Mingyu doesn’t mind mapping the little changes in Wonwoo’s face.

Really, he’s that interested.

Mingyu keeps his eyes on the boy. And if people could feel that they’re being watched, then Wonwoo hasn’t honed his feelings that much.

He spoke too soon.

Wonwoo looks up to the window and Mingyu’s eyes widen, ducking under the steering wheel and praying to God that he couldn’t be seen through his windshield. He even goes as far as unbuckling his seatbelt and ducking even further but his engine is on and the alarm that tells you to buckle your seatbelt keeps whining and Mingyu feels like he’s a fat uncle in the middle of a high school earthquake drill and he’s fucking _panicking_ so he pulls his car keys out of the ignition.

He’s hyperventilating.

If he dies in here from carbon inhalation then that’s how he’ll go.

He wants to drive off, drive off while he’s hidden like this so he won’t be seen by anyone. But that’s incredibly dangerous and Mingyu isn’t that big of a clumsy idiot, he knows it won’t fucking work that way.

So he stays in that position for about ten seconds, before his muscles scream for help just like how his inner self is, and he climbs up his seat to peak out his car window.

Luckily, he sees that Wonwoo’s already serving up another customer, his trademark smile flashed.

And as much as Mingyu wants to stay and watch, he’s not taking any chances.

 

“What’s your strongest frappuccino blend?”

Mingyu asks Wonwoo, who has his eyes blown wide and his eyebrows meeting and his lips pursed in such a cute way that it starts to look mocking.

Mingyu took a few days after last time so he wouldn’t spontaneously combust from shame and lose his well-kept image of asshole-ry in front of Wonwoo.

Which seems to have worked, because it’s Wonwoo who’s getting flustered right now, “We, uh,” He starts punching into the register, “We have the Espresso frap. It has two shots of–“

“I’ll take that. No need to explain.”

“One Espresso frappe. Venti?”

Mingyu nods, watching Wonwoo’s expression carefully; seeing his brow tick as if trying to suppress a frown while he puts in the order.

“You okay, Wonwoo?”

“I’m fine,” Wonwoo sighs, taking a cup and writing on it, he turns around before he adds in a mumble, “Mingyu.”

When Wonwoo calls Mingyu’s name, he takes the drink and stares at the boy intently, trying to get a reaction out of him (a smile, perhaps?), but Wonwoo avoids his gaze, “Enjoy your drink.”

Mingyu tips the cup towards Wonwoo in a fake toast and walks away in disappointment.

 

How much does looking at a person from the outside tell you who they are on the inside?

For Mingyu, it tells you more than enough.

Sometimes, he watches people and wonders what’s going on in their heads at that moment. If the little pout on their lips was caused by something trivial or something drastic. If the random smile that creeps up their face was because of a memory from long ago or from a joke their friend told them hours before.

Sometimes, he even makes up little stories for them, like how some little kids laugh at random things because it reminded them of their family, or how the elderly feeding some ducks were former military members.

But, for someone he already knows, it’s difficult to watch their lives play out after everything that has happened. It takes a lot for him to read into the emotion that seeps through their faces while they try to tell you that they’re fine when they’re only pretending to be.

And even though Wonwoo hasn’t told him anything nor reassured him about his well-being, Mingyu knows that he’s just trying to act strong.

Mingyu’s used to watching among the sidelines, used to analyzing his surroundings. But he’s never had to watch anyone who looked so _dedicated_ in his work.

All he’s ever had to watch was bored businessmen in suits agreeing to his father because they needed his money, or his father answering phonecall after phonecall during dinner and eventually leaving the table permanently.

But Jeon Wonwoo was something else.

Despite his heavy eyes and sullen skin, Wonwoo manages to smile and nod politely at every single customer, even the ones who were obviously overbearing.

Mingyu knows that the boy’s tired, but he never lets it show; instead, he exerts effort in doing his job well and reacts positively to those he serves. He never lets his personal trouble interfere with his work.

And perhaps Mingyu’s jealous that they’re able to receive those smiles from him; when all he ever gave Mingyu was a scowl or a proper stone face (not that he didn’t deserve it, though. Mingyu’s completely aware that he’s been a dickbag). But Mingyu worries how long he can keep up the act before he loses it and breaks down.

He hopes it doesn’t happen before he can help him.

 

* * *

 

_Ugh, again?_

Wonwoo takes a deep breath and steels himself for the storm that’s about to come.

“One Venti Americano. Iced.” 

Standing in front of him was the six foot plus tall boy who seemed to be fueled only by Large Americano’s and Wonwoo’s annoyance since he’s been coming over here every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday just to piss him off. Not that Wonwoo’s keeping track, he just noticed.

Said boy, _Mingyu,_ tilts his head to the side when Wonwoo doesn’t reply. And that should look cute but when Mingyu does it, it looks intimidating; like he’s daring Wonwoo to say anything against him.

“Got it.”

Wonwoo gets to work immediately because the faster he’s done, the faster that boy gets out of here. And he can probably hold a cup stacking record with the speed he used to make Mingyu’s coffee.

Mingyu’s still at the counter when Wonwoo comes back so he just slides the drink over, not even bothering to utter his name.

Mingyu takes the cup and takes a sip, licking his lips right after. Wonwoo finds himself fixated on the red of it, but he gathers his thoughts before he could stare any longer.

“Have a nice day, Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo grits his teeth. He doesn’t like the feeling Mingyu leaves in him with just a few words, and he burns a hole on the boy’s back by glaring at it intently while he walks away.

 

“Is it a Venti Americano?” Wonwoo asks, trying to keep his tone polite despite the distant urge to curl his hands into fists.

Mingyu’s decided to visit again, and when Wonwoo looks at his face he can tell that the boy was fighting back a smile, rocking back on his heels with his hands in his coat pockets.

Wonwoo sincerely hopes he loses his balance.

“Yeah, How’d you guess?” Mingyu decides to play along, even going as far as leaning over the counter, making a show of his smug face and nearly pressing it to Wonwoo’s, who backs up before replying.

“You’ve been pretty consistent.”

“Sure hope I was.” Mingyu takes a peak at the register’s screen before standing back up, and Wonwoo tries his best to hide his scowl behind it.

He has no idea what Mingyu means, but he’s not buying into it. Nope, not one bit.

 

They play their little game like this:

Mingyu walks in and orders his usual drink. Wonwoo tries to keep from showing him any emotion as he takes the order and makes it. He hands Mingyu his drink and hopes he fucks off in peace.

More often than not, Wonwoo loses.

It’s just because he can’t stand the boy. He can’t help but scowl at his actions because they’re irritating and his very presence demands a long sigh from Wonwoo.

Just last time, Mingyu ruffled his hair and told him to, “Lighten up, would you?”

And Wonwoo _didn’t_ like that, thank you very much.

He didn’t appreciate those stubby fingers running through his hair and ruining the hairstyle he spent absolutely zero time on. It didn’t make his belly feel nice and warm at all.

_Not at all._

He cringes when he thinks about it. What does Mingyu even mean by _lighten up?_ He’s 63 kilos; if he gets any lighter he might shrivel up and disappear.

“Hey, Won.”

Oh, and yeah. He uses nicknames now. The audacity.

“A Venti Iced Americano. Sure.” Wonwoo replies in the most monotonous voice ever, walking away from the grin slowly creeping up on Mingyu’s face.

He finishes up the drink and slides it over the counter towards Mingyu.

“There you go.”

“That was quick.”

Wonwoo only hums, pursing his lips and staring into the boy’s eyes as a challenge.

Mingyu stares back.

And Wonwoo doesn’t know why, but his mouth suddenly feels dry and he _really_ regrets initiating that stare off and now he wants Mingyu gone because he doesn’t appreciate feeling like this.

He tells Mingyu as much.

“You can go now, Mingyu.”

Mingyu gasps, “Is that the way to treat a customer?”

This makes Wonwoo snort. Before it escalates into full on laughter at the bewildered look on Mingyu’s face; nose-scrunching teeth-showing laugh that has him throwing his head back because, _honestly_? He’s been treating Mingyu indifferently from the beginning and he’s only starting to bitch about being a customer _now?_ What kind of backwards world does he live in?

When Wonwoo’s laughter dies down, Mingyu’s staring at him. And he’s kind of taken aback by the intensity of it. Wonwoo can’t even look back at him too long.

Mingyu decides to break the silence, “Can you do that every time I come over?”

“What?” Wonwoo is breathless, “Laugh at you?”

“As long as you’re laughing.”

Wonwoo blinks at him, trying to find the hint of mockery in his face and finding nothing but sincerity.

It takes him off guard and makes his heart feel a little like liquid in his chest. He finds that he can’t say anything to that, so he just averts his gaze and clears his throat.

Mingyu sighs, and Wonwoo watches from beneath his lashes as the boy snatches his drink from the counter with a shake of his head.

He leaves in a flurry, and this time Wonwoo doesn’t watch him go.

 

The next Tuesday and Thursday come over without even a shadow of Mingyu, and Wonwoo might hate to admit it, but he finds himself looking to the door every time it opens just to see if he’s come to annoy him once more.

But Mingyu never arrives.

Wonwoo’s being a nutcase, apparently. Of course, he hasn’t forgotten about the little office mishap he had because of the boy, and he hasn’t forgiven him either. But looking past that, his little banter with Mingyu provided events that grounded him after seeing too many unknown faces in the span of six hours, being the only familiar face that greets him and reminds him that he’s not actually lost.

Mingyu hasn’t even mentioned his little _deal_ in any of his visits.

Besides, he could grow to like the boy if doesn’t act like an asshole all the time.

So, come Saturday when a certain boy walks through the door, Wonwoo finds himself fighting a smile.

For the first time, he isn’t entirely repulsed with Mingyu’s arrival. In fact, he’s pretty glad he’s here.

“One Venti Americano?”

Mingyu shakes his head. This makes Wonwoo furrow his brow in confusion.

“I’m stressed. I need your strongest frappuccino blend.”

Mingyu goes on his phone then, and Wonwoo makes his drink. But Wonwoo can still see that Mingyu keeps stealing quick glances at him with a kicked puppy expression, like he’s tired and he’s sorry about it.

And Wonwoo’s not invulnerable to that, he knows how much stress can fuck up someone’s day because it’s certainly done that for him on multiple occasions.

So he decides he doesn’t have to give Mingyu such a hard time today.

“Hey. Mingyu,” Mingyu looks up from his phone and Wonwoo ceases the opportunity to smile at him, and Mingyu keeps blinking at him like an idiot, making Wonwoo chuckle as he slides his drink towards him, “have a nice day.”

 

* * *

 

Mingyu’s resorted to just watching Wonwoo again after his last visit. He doesn’t like it when things get out of his control.

And if the way he choked up from the words that left his mouth upon seeing Wonwoo laugh was anything to go by, then things were pretty out of control.

So he tries to distance himself and get that control back before he loses it completely.

Call it wishful thinking, but sometimes Mingyu sees Wonwoo glance towards the door with a hopeful look on his face and Mingyu believes he’s looking for him.

Which is unlikely, but the slight chances that Wonwoo anticipates his arrival makes Mingyu feel important, somehow.

He’s been trying to keep it casual with Wonwoo, and he actually likes that they have their own brand of banter now, like he can look forward to teasing Wonwoo and making him squint at Mingyu through his glasses. He likes being able to observe Wonwoo as he grumbles while making his coffee. Having a little staring competition with him until one of them breaks and leaves the other to giggle or groan, whichever comes first.

Mingyu likes it, seeing Wonwoo’s playful side, even though he knows the other boy is a bit reluctant in showing it. But he’s heard that a little is better than nothing at all, so he’ll take it.

Besides, he’s pretty sure he can break Wonwoo out of his shell sooner or later. He’s pretty persistent.

 

Frappuccinos aren’t your best bet for a winter drink, but Mingyu’s been craving a heavily sweetened drink and he kind of misses Wonwoo, so if he freezes his ass off while sipping at his beverage in the chilly autumn air then _c’est la vie_.

He walks into the shop and sighs as he feels the warmth defrost his fingers. Towards the counter, he sees a woman on her phone waiting in line and gets behind her; he looks over those machines they use to make coffee and sees Wonwoo’s head peeping above it which has him holding back a smile.

When the woman moves out of the way, Mingyu finally meets Wonwoo’s eyes; and Mingyu might be imagining it, but he sees Wonwoo’s cheek bunch up while trying to fight a smile of his own.

Mingyu doesn’t notice the time it took or the words he said, but when Wonwoo hands him his drink he also offers him a small smile; and suddenly the time he spent away from Wonwoo seems nonexistent and Mingyu finds that he doesn’t really fucking mind freezing his ass out in the cold anymore because he believes he’s already felt everything there is to feel with _just_ a small upturn of the boy’s lips.

He doesn’t know what to do with himself.

Suddenly, he feels young and disarmed, his heart a soldier fighting a battle it can never win; so he just takes the drink and turns away from the next chuckle that leaves Wonwoo’s lips and he feels his own smile pull up.

As he walks towards his car, he notices that his smile still hasn’t left his lips.

He hasn’t smiled this much for so long he almost forgot what it felt like.

Mingyu hates to admit, but he appreciates Wonwoo very much.

 

College hallways are the absolute worst.

Glancing at his watch, he sees that he still has about fifteen minutes to get to class. But he still has to get through the current of students exiting before he reaches it, which has him heaving a sigh.

Because of Mingyu’s height, he finds maneuvering around crowded spaces difficult. It’s not exactly easy to squeeze your way through when you’re this huge, and he can’t help the glare he sends towards clumps of people who’ve decided that chatting in the middle of an already crowded hallway appropriate.

“Excuse me.” Mingyu says flatly, striding right in between their group and cutting their conversation off.

He sees the dirty looks they send him as he walks away, but he doesn’t care. They were in the way and if they have the nerve to call him out for what he did then he’ll wait for them to try doing just that, in case they want to piss him off even more.

As expected, they don’t utter a word.

And Mingyu continues walking towards the end of the building to get to his lecture hall. The crowd clears up eventually, the people in the halls finally walking out the building or getting inside their rooms.

But that doesn’t mean Mingyu’s out of his bad mood.

He turns especially irritable in the midst of crowds, so he walks with a semi-permanent scowl on his face.

But when Mingyu’s a couple rooms away from his lecture hall, he hears the door behind him open, then papers scattering to the ground.

“Dude, what the fuck!”

“I-I’m sorry.”           

The familiar voice has Mingyu turning around, and he sees Wonwoo crouching down to pick his portfolio up along with plenty of extra papers.

The person who bumped into him just walked away after screaming at him, and Mingyu watches as Wonwoo reaches out to take his papers.

The boy can barely hold his eyes open, and Mingyu notices the slight tremble in his hands as he picks everything up; Mingyu starts to wonder how many hours of sleep he got last night.

Mingyu knows that everyone’s eyes are on the boy, including his, but none of them are trying to help.

They just like watching an embarrassing show as long as they don’t star in it.

And he wants to help him. But he’s already running late and he’s not in the best mood, so he sighs and walks the other way.

 

Mingyu’s backing his car up from his parking spot when he makes the last minute decision to take a drive off-route from his apartment and towards the café.

His reaction to what happened to Wonwoo earlier kept bugging him during one of his lectures, leaving him distracted and feeling incredibly guilty for just leaving him there when it’s obvious that the boy wasn’t in the best condition,

So now he’s going to give him a visit to check up on him, and to also serve as an apology even though he’s pretty sure that Wonwoo didn’t even notice his presence then.

But upon entering the café, Mingyu could hear the ruckus of a man’s complaint and the silent but steady apologies coming from Wonwoo. It has him frowning into the scarf wrapped around his neck as he sits down at the table that’s placed nearest to the entrance.

Seriously, what kind of person has the gall to cause a scene? On a Saturday?

Mingyu’s seated on Wonwoo’s left as he tries to appease the man (who was, ironically, wearing a suit. Who would’ve thought a man in a suit could be so scandalous?), and Wonwoo hasn’t taken his eyes off the man so he definitely doesn’t notice that Mingyu’s inside the café.

“I’ll just make you a new one, si–“

“You don’t get it do you, kid?” The man cuts Wonwoo off, pulling his sleeves from his wrist and glancing at his wristwatch before almost shoving it back at Wonwoo’s face, the action has Wonwoo flinching back, “You’ve wasted enough of my time!”

Mingyu feels his brow tick.

He wants to stand, wants to tap the man on the shoulder and pull him from the lapels of his suit and out of the café when he turns around just to get him out of here and teach him a lesson.

Nobody should scare Wonwoo like that. Not on his watch.

But Mingyu isn’t the type of person to cause a scene, no matter how outgoing he might seem. He’s usually in the sidelines just watching things unfold. Just like everyone in this café right now who has their eyes either glued to the scene or discreetly sneaking glances towards it.

So he stays in his seat.

Mingyu sees Wonwoo gulp, “Well sir, I can’t really do anything about time. But your drink, I can manage.”

“No? I want my money back.”

“Sir, we really can’t do that.” Wonwoo shakes his head and smiles politely, though Mingyu can see how much he’s shaking, “I can only–“

The man cuts him off _again,_ “Well then keep your filthy drink!”

In a split second, the man pushes the drink before walking away. And Wonwoo steps back with a gasp when it splatters on the countertop and on his apron.

His eyes were wide in shock, watching the man who just disrespected and humiliated him walk out.

Through it all, Wonwoo manages a small, ‘ _have a nice day’,_ before shakily exhaling and making quick work of the mess on the counter.

The man held a smug smile when he walks off, as if screaming at a young man who could _never_ talk back at him was amusing, Mingyu wants to punch that look right off his face.

Mingyu’s frown never leaves through the whole ordeal, and it already takes all his will power to not push the man away from Wonwoo, so when he sees how he almost throws the drink at him he gets on his feet and follows the man out the shop without Wonwoo seeing him.

This morning, he hasn’t done the right thing. He left Wonwoo alone when he needed help and the thought of it never let him rest.

So now he decides to do something.

Taking long strides behind the man, he notices that he’s walking towards a white Volkswagen parked across the street, two cars away from his. And he feels his lips quirk up.

Mingyu didn’t actually have a plan, but fate _loves_ giving him chances.

And he loves taking them.

See, he’s _very_ oriented with indications of any affiliation to his family, and upon inspecting the car’s windshield, he sees a sticker that’s identical to the one stuck on his; an entrance sticker that bears the logo of his father’s company.

This man, this _douchebag,_ is his father’s employee.

Mingyu walks faster until he’s standing behind the man and pushing the door closed when he unlocks it.

“The hell do you think you’re doing?!” The man yells, turning around to face Mingyu, who now has a practiced, intimidating scowl on his face.

“I’m trying to hold a conversation, _sir._ ” Mingyu says through gritted teeth, “And I would appreciate it if you kept your voice down.”

The man doesn’t listen, forcefully pulling Mingyu’s hand away from the door handle and trying to open it again. But Mingyu beats him to it, using more force to keep the door closed.

“I do not,” The man finally lets go of the door handle, turning to Mingyu and glaring at him, “have the time to spend on kids like you! Do you know who you’re dealing with, huh? I can have you arrested!”

Mingyu smirks at the man’s nerve, “13.8 billion dollar net-worth, 100 thousand employees working under their businesses, more than 60 branches standing across the country–“

“What are you even saying?” The man’s starting to pay attention, standing straight and looking Mingyu in the eye.

“The Kim Group of companies’ statistical standing,” Mingyu gestures towards the man’s windshield, “that’s where the sticker over there’s from isn’t it?”

“What,“ The man’s eyes flicker over to the sticker then back at Mingyu, “What’s it to you?”

“Oh? You don’t know? Let me introduce myself then,” Mingyu stands tall before stepping forward, making the man back away until he hits the side of the car, “I’m _Kim Mingyu_ , only son of the company’s CEO. And I don’t care who _you_ are, but I don’t appreciate the way you treated my friend back there.”

The man’s gaping at him now, all the anger from earlier having been transformed into what looks like absolute dread, Mingyu takes his silence as an opportunity to hit him hard.

“You work for my father, don’t you?” Mingyu tilts his head, waiting until the man nods. He scowls at him before whispering, “Consider yourself fired.”

Mingyu doesn’t actually have the power to do that, but empty threats work the most when you’re backed up by a real title, and the man is already clambering at Mingyu just _begging_ him to reconsider.

It’s honestly so annoying, how some people can only be nice to you when they need something from you.

Mingyu only scoffs, “Get away from me and maybe I’ll think about it.”

Mingyu turns and walks to his car, ignoring the man as he calls out to him desperately, driving away and thinking that if the man can’t go to sleep worrying about his job, then it only serves him right.

 

* * *

 

Wonwoo leans his back against the storage room door and takes a shaky breath.

His mind is so fuzzy it’s starting to ache, and his eyes are burning so bad along with his lungs and he feels like everything is just going to shit.

Even breathing hurts.

He’s in shock from what happened earlier the events loud and relentlessly playing back in his head. Sure, he’s served whiny customers before, but never has anyone yelled at him like that, treated him like _that_.

So after cleaning up the counter and serving the next person in line he rushed towards where he is right now just so he can _breathe_ , because it feels like everyone in the vicinity of the café witnessed what happened and are watching, _waiting_ , for him to react.

And he doesn’t like being watched. It makes him feel anxious.

Taking a deep breath, he stands up straight before he can start pulling at his hair in frustration.

“Wonwoo, are you okay?” A voice startles him from his reverie, and when he looks to the side he sees Jeonghan walk over to him, “What happened?”

“It was nothing sir, I,” Wonwoo sniffles, “I came over here to get some caramel syrup, we ran out.”

“Are you sure? You look pretty distressed.”

“I’m okay, sir.” Wonwoo gives him a timid smile, “I’ll be going back.”

“Wonwoo.”

“Yes sir?”

“You forgot the syrup.”

“Oh,” Wonwoo chuckles, taking the container when Jeonghan hands it to him, “thanks.”

Jeonghan smiles, “Just call me over if there’s a problem, alright?”

“Yes sir.”

Wonwoo wishes he told him that sooner.

 

Wonwoo unlocks their dorm room and almost melts into a pile of goo at the doorway. 

Jeonghan dismissed Wonwoo early despite his protests after he found out what actually happened, he even called one of their part-timers to cover for his shift, the part-timer being Boo Seungkwan, who immediately started complaining and whining to Jeonghan, even calling him _hyung_ , once he put on his apron.

Seungkwan’s actions caused Wonwoo to burn in shame, but Jeonghan only smacked the whining boy upside the head and assured him that it was fine, making Seungkwan apologize to him before ushering him out and telling him to get some rest.

He doesn’t like that feeling, you know, the feeling of people giving you a time out because they feel sorry for what happened to you? He believes it’s called pity.

Yeah, he hates being pitied.

He usually likes it when he’s just given some time alone for him to sort things out on his own, not when he’s relieved of every responsibility and burdening other people with _his_ work just because something bad happened and they think he can’t handle it anymore.

People always think he’s too fragile. But he’s not some glass doll, and he hates the feeling that comes with being treated like one.

“You’re back early.”

Wonwoo lifts his head from where he’s untying his shoelaces and sees his roommate on their couch, his hand in a bag of chips while the TV plays in the background. This might as well be the first time Wonwoo got home to see him awake.

Wonwoo nods, pulling his feet out of his shoes and standing up to walk, in just his socks, towards the couch, pushing the other boy’s legs off before sitting as well.

“That’s new,” His roommate, Taehyung, says around a mouthful of chips, “d’you pretend to be sick?”

Taeyong offers him the bag, Wonwoo takes it and gets a few pieces before handing it back, “Hell no.”

“What happened then?” Taehyung tilts the bag into his mouth and Wonwoo just about promises to himself that he’s not taking any more from that, thank you very much.

“Just some stuff.” Wonwoo shrugs and then stands up to stretch, jutting his thumb towards their room, “I’ll be, uh, in there.”

“Sure.”

Wonwoo pushes the door shut and trudges towards his desk where he places his glasses, before he plants himself face first into his mattress. He groans, turning over and shimmying his way up till his head is placed comfortably over his pillow.

Without meaning to, he reaches for his phone and dials Junhui’s number, unconsciously wanting to rant to him about his day. When he checks the caller ID he groans again, he _knows_ he isn’t going to pick up.

It rings once, twice, thrice, and then…

It stops ringing.

Wonwoo stops breathing.

He pulls his phone from his ear and checks if he’s heard that right, and the numbers on the screen showed 00:02 and it kept going up while Wonwoo kept staring at the screen in disbelief. After almost a month of trying, Junhui finally answered; and Wonwoo doesn’t know where to start.

He wants to tell him everything that happened, tell him off for leaving him alone and ignoring him, he wants to tell him so many things that he feels everything slow down around him; the sounds muting into a lull, until the only thing Wonwoo hears is the static from the other side when he places his phone back to his ear.

And then everything starts speeding up, and Wonwoo feels like he’s running out of time to tell him _anything_ and he starts sputtering to get even a single word out. He doesn’t know what to say.

“Jun?”

Wonwoo hears someone’s breath hitch on the other line.

And then there was nothing.

Jun just dropped the call and he didn’t even say hello.

Wonwoo’s heart drops to his stomach as his eyes scan the brightly lit screen displaying his best friend’s name, the call only took 38 seconds. A sob builds up in his throat.

“No…” Wonwoo chokes on his words, “C’mon, Junnie. Pick up.”

Wonwoo presses the number again, and again, and again; but the calls keep being dropped and Wonwoo just about loses it, “No… please.”

“Please come back.” Wonwoo’s pleas fade out into sobs that wrack his body until he’s curled up on the mattress and clutching his phone like a lifeline.

He falls asleep like that, his head feeling like an overflowing dam that keeps pouring over through his eyes, his heart a heavy thing the keeps him anchored to his bed, and his hands, shaky as they are, gripping his phone, waiting for a call that never comes.

 

Wonwoo spends the next few days in absolute silence.

He doesn’t go to work for two days, and Jeonghan excuses him easily, thinking that it’s about his fear of the same old man returning and giving him shit again but it’s far from that. It won’t just be talking to that man again; it’s talking to anyone in general.

He can’t take conversations, it feels like if he opens his mouth, he’ll start crying out of nowhere and he wouldn’t know how to explain it to the people who might see him. So he keeps his mouth shut until he feels like he doesn’t want to throw his heart up anymore.

 

Come Tuesday, Wonwoo’s returned to being a fully functional member of society.

He even took a full shift, thanking Seungkwan for the time he spent to cover for him by buying him a cake slice and some fruit drink for brunch.

He knows it’s additional expenses for his already on-the-brink-of-death bank account, but buying someone food is honestly the cheapest way to show your gratitude towards someone.

Besides, Wonwoo doesn’t like leaving debts unpaid, so treating Seungkwan for brunch is just common courtesy for him; he’ll just have to do something to gain the money back.

Right now, Wonwoo is finishing up his shift, flipping the sign on the door from _open_ to _closed,_ checking their inventory and disinfecting the tables and counters.

He’s flipping the chairs near the window when he hears the bell ring from the door, telling him that someone just came inside.

_Can’t these people read?_

Wonwoo sighs, resuming his work without even looking back at the person who entered, by the sound of the heavy footsteps, Wonwoo guesses it’s a man, “Sir, I don’t think you’re supposed to be here anymore… we’re closed.”

“Did I just hear you call me _sir_?”

Wonwoo almost gives himself whiplash from how fast he turns around, looking at Mingyu who’s gently nudging the door closed with a smirk on his face.

Wonwoo notices the splatter of red over his nose and cheeks that must be from the cold outside, and he can’t help but think that he looks, cute _._

_Wait, what?_

“Mingyu,” Wonwoo starts, but he doesn’t know what else to say so he just stares at him, how he’s so bundled up and even has a beanie on his head.

He must get cold easily.

“I’ll be staying for a bit. I don’t think the owner would mind.”

“What?”

Mingyu just smiles at him. And it’s only occurred to Wonwoo that if Mingyu were as rich as he believed he was, then he’d definitely own more than just one establishment.

This makes Wonwoo step back, “Please don’t tell me that you own this place too…”

“Oh, I don’t…” Mingyu walks closer to Wonwoo without looking at him, before pulling the chair from where it’s flipped and placing the plastic bag he’s holding onto the space he just made. He takes his beanie off and ruffles his hair, blinking at Wonwoo before he continues, “My best friend does.”

Wonwoo squints at Mingyu and can’t help but sigh.

Of course, _of course_ something like this would happen.

Mingyu takes a seat before pulling the chair out beside him, patting it once and gesturing to the plastic bag on the table, “Come on, have a drink.”

Mingyu then starts pulling the cans of Red Bull out of the bag; he takes out four in total. Wonwoo eyes the cans before he sits down and takes one, “I was actually planning on sleeping tonight, but thanks.”

“Sure.”

Wonwoo sits and watches as Mingyu opens up a can and takes a sip, his eyes involuntarily moving down to where Mingyu’s Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows.

Wonwoo quickly looks away, feeling his throat go dry and he takes a long gulp of his own drink. Wonwoo decides that if he’s going to survive the time Mingyu’s gonna spend here then he’s going to have to talk.

Because otherwise he’s going to just mindlessly stare and he doesn’t want to come off as a creep.

“What brings you here?”

“I thought you needed some company.”

“I’m just closing up the shop.”

“That get’s lonely too you know.” Mingyu shrugs, before he leans his head on his hand and furrows his brows at Wonwoo, “Are you okay?”

Wonwoo feels his goosebumps rise with Mingyu’s stare; he doesn’t know why the boy’s even asking him if he’s okay. _Of course he is._ Why wouldn’t he be?

“Yeah, uhm,” Wonwoo fixes his glasses over his nose and he can’t find it in him to look back at the boy, “you?”

Mingyu hums, “I’m sorry about last time.”

Wonwoo furrows his brows in confusion. Does Mingyu finally own up to everything he’s done to him? “Sorry, what?”

“I saw what happened,” Mingyu’s staring at him again, and Wonwoo finds himself staring back, “you know, the man who didn’t want his drink.”

“You… you saw that?” Wonwoo leans back on his seat and suddenly avoids Mingyu’s gaze, he feels his face heat up and his hands move to cover it, “Oh my god. This is so embarrassing.”

“Why should you be embarrassed?” Mingyu’s hand curls around Wonwoo’s wrist, a fleeting touch that sears Wonwoo’s skin, “You didn’t do anything wrong “

“It was my mistake–“

“You don’t deserve to be treated the way he did.” Mingyu sits up, and the angry expression on his face leaves Wonwoo feeling even more confused, he doesn’t understand why he looks like he’s the one who’s been yelled at and not Wonwoo, “But rest assured, it won’t be happening again.”

Wonwoo opens his mouth to question what Mingyu said, but the sound of a door closing has the both of them turning to its direction.

“Close up for me, won’t you, Won– Oh.” Jeonghan stands in front of the storage room, staring at the two who were now both almost on their second cans of Red Bull.

This must look like a little secret date he’s been holding behind his boss’ back. Wonwoo panics.

“Sir, I can explain.”

“Hey there, Mingyu.”

Wonwoo shuts his mouth right away and turns to Mingyu, who was raising a can in acknowledgement, and Wonwoo’s still really confused right now.

Jeonghan takes long strides towards them before stopping in front of Mingyu and ruffling his hair, to which the other replies with a low whine, “ _Hyung._ ”

Jeonghan chuckles at him, “I’d love to stay and chat but I have to go. Wonwoo, close up the shop for me. And the both of you,” He then points a finger, alternating between the two, “behave.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Please go.” Mingyu pushes Jeonghan away, and the boy just smiles back at him.

“I just don’t want you two to have _too_ much fun.”

“We aren’t doing anything...” Wonwoo cuts in, getting the attention of both Mingyu and Jeonghan which has him curling in on himself.

Jeonghan smirks, “Yet.”

This makes Mingyu and Wonwoo turn red simultaneously, and Mingyu glares at Jeonghan when he says, “I thought you had to go?”

“All right, all right.” Jeonghan raises his hands up and giggles while walking towards the exit.

The silence he leaves behind is suffocating.

Wonwoo’s still blushing, he just knows it, and he’s pretty sure the other isn’t in a better condition. He hears him take a long sip of his drink, and then there’s quiet.

He can’t look at Mingyu. All he wants to do is get up and hide himself in the staff room then collect his things and leave this goddamn shop without locking anything; to hell with it, he wants to get out of here with _at least_ some semblance of dignity.

“Don’t mind him,” Mingyu breaks Wonwoo from his thoughts, and when he looks at him, Mingyu’s lips are pursed but his eyes are creasing noticeably, “he just likes teasing me.”

Wonwoo stares at him. All this time, he’s been thinking of Mingyu as this untouchable being, never one to be tested by anybody because it’s him who tests everybody. But here they are now; Jeonghan just took his time to push Mingyu’s buttons without any fear and left Mingyu with cheeks that rival a rose’s red.

Wonwoo clears his throat, “I figured.”

They fall into another silence after that, and Wonwoo wants to test Mingyu’s vulnerability some more, but he doesn’t know him.

Though, he would like to.

And that thought terrifies him.

“So,” Wonwoo licks his lips, and he sees Mingyu’s eyes flicker down to the movement, “what made you bring all these caffeinated drinks in an already caffeine filled establishment?”

Mingyu chuckles, “I already told you earlier.”

“I still don’t think it’s valid.”

“I don’t have to make it valid for you.” Mingyu says before taking another drink from his can, not breaking eye contact with Wonwoo all the while, and when he puts down the can down he has this smug look on his face that has Wonwoo glaring at him.

“Asshole.”

Wonwoo’s eyes widen along with Mingyu’s, and Wonwoo starts stuttering to form an apology, but Mingyu’s teeth peek out his lips and before he knows it, the boy is holding his own stomach and doubling over in laughter, stunning Wonwoo into silence before he starts giggling along with him.

“I think that’s the first time you’ve directly called me that.”

“I’ve definitely been thinking it for quite a while though.”

They laugh again, and it’s so easy. Wonwoo starts to wonder if this would’ve been how things were if their first, even second, meeting went any different; if they were kinder to each other... Would they even meet if those disasters didn’t occur?

Wonwoo doesn’t want to think about it, not when he’s here and he’s laughing with him like nothing bad ever happened before.

He’d like to pretend that nothing did.

“I’ve been,” Mingyu clears his throat once his laughter dies down, “I’ve been coming over but you haven’t been here.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Mingyu bites his lip, Wonwoo’s eyes flickers briefly to the movement, “was it because of what happened?”

“You mean the man?” Wonwoo’s eyes widen and he quickly shakes his head, a lie dripping down his tongue immediately, “No, no. Just… I was trying to get some studying done.”

“Really?”

Wonwoo hums, ducking his head and hiding his face by taking a sip of his drink. Lying comes easy to him ever since he got his first job, especially when his mom calls to check up on him at the wrong time.

He must’ve been good at it too, lying, since she never really noticed; and Wonwoo hopes Mingyu doesn’t either.

“Wonwoo,” Mingyu calls out, Wonwoo doesn’t look at him, “why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Breaking your back for money? Burning yourself out in school? I see it, don’t even try to deny.”

Wonwoo whips his head towards Mingyu and glares at him. He doesn’t know anything.

“I don’t exactly have everything at the tip of my fingers,” He squints at Mingyu before looking at the ground, “unlike you.”

Wonwoo stares at the floor, and a similar sense of wanting to flee like earlier engulfing him.

He didn’t mean to say that, he was just childishly upset over the fact that somebody as well-off as Mingyu has to be the one to notice how terrible it’s been for him.

He doesn’t need the pity.

“So accept my offer.” Mingyu breaks him out of his thoughts, and it takes a moment for Wonwoo to figure out what he’s talking about, and when he does he feels his cheeks burn.

“Wha– this again? Mingyu please–“

“I just want to help you…”

Wonwoo softens, if he didn’t know any better he’d think that the little pinch in his heart was him succumbing to Mingyu’s soft plea.

But his head is above his heart for a reason.

“Mingyu,” Wonwoo hears the said boy inhale, and it’s becoming kind of painful to _not_ look at him, “I’m sorry but I can’t. I really can’t.”

“But why not?” Mingyu grabs his wrist again, but the touch is gone as fast as it came, “I’m offering to help you with minimal consequences. I won’t even expect that much from you once you agree.”

“I’m not some sort of arm candy for you to walk around with, Mingyu!”

“That’s not what I want you to be!”

The two of them freeze up, their twin outbursts rendering them mute for a few seconds, staring at each other and watching carefully for the other’s next move.

That’s when Mingyu straightens up, regaining his composure and closing his eyes for a few seconds, only to open them back again with a determined glint that catches Wonwoo off guard.

“I’ll give you a black card.”

“What?”

“A black card. Unlimited spending. Buy everything you need and want. For you. For your family. Just say yes.”

Wonwoo opens his mouth, and then he closes it again because nothing comes out. He’s too stunned.

He’s heard of those things, black cards, only people who owned millions of dollars had the capacity to get a hold of one; it’s basically a myth to him, and his mind is refusing to believe that the person in front of him owns one.

“You don’t have that…”

Mingyu scoffs but the expression in his face is devoid of mockery, “If this is an issue of me owning something as simple as that then you should know by now that you’re wrong.” Mingyu licks his lips, and he must sense the skepticism in Wonwoo’s eyes because he adds, “Believe me, I do.”

Wonwoo exhales and turns his head to the cans on the table; he eyes their neglected drinks before looking back at Mingyu with an eyebrow raised.

“Does it come from your trust fund?”

“Wha- no!” Mingyu sputters, obviously taken aback by the question, before he chuckles and shakes his head, “You’re seriously something else, aren’t you?”

“What? I was just curious as to where you get that much money to own a black card. And why would you just give it away? Are you nuts? What if I decide to withdraw a million dollars in a day?”

“Then you withdraw a million dollars in a day.” Mingyu shrugs like it’s the most inconsequential thing in the world, and Wonwoo starts to worry about this boy’s well being, because if he’s going to be this careless his whole life then something bad is just _bound_ to happen.

“You’re not even worried?” Wonwoo sits back and shakes his head at him, “You obviously didn’t have any contribution to the contents of that card, you have no right to give it away.”

“Wonwoo,” Mingyu sighs, leaning forward to make up for the space Wonwoo created when he sat back, “more than half of the money in there is my well earned reward for working in my father’s company. I have _every_ right to decide where that money goes.”

“Even to strangers?”

“You’re no stranger to me.”

Wonwoo blinks at him, and he feels his chest swell with those words, he suddenly feels the way he did when he laughed at Mingyu and the other only told him to just _laugh_. His disbelief being contradicted by Mingyu’s genuine stare yet again, his words wrapping around Wonwoo’s head like a tape recording played on repeat.

“I, that’s,” Wonwoo swallows when Mingyu holds his gaze, looking like an expectant pup, “that doesn’t mean I’m accepting your offer. It’s still a no, Mingyu. Sorry.”

Mingyu sighs, leaning back against his chair. Wonwoo watches him rummage through his coat pocket before he takes out his wallet, pulling out something that Wonwoo identifies to be a calling card.

He used to have those, back then, but that doesn’t matter.

“Just know that my offer still stands,” Mingyu slides the card towards Wonwoo, and he sees Mingyu’s name embossed in gold on the paper, “just give me a call.”

Wonwoo takes the card, reading through it before looking up at Mingyu, who was now standing and putting his beanie back on.

“I gotta get going.”

“Sure.”

Wonwoo watches as Mingyu turns around to walk out but he stops at the door, quickly whipping back around to look at him again.

“What else do you need?”

“Won’t you call me? I can’t keep coming over and drinking so much caffeine just to talk to you.”

With that, Mingyu turns to leave, dashing out like he always has when he says something questionable, leaving Wonwoo to ponder over it with a deep chuckle.

 

Wonwoo cleans up the mess he and Mingyu made, making him stay at the store far later than usual, and when he’s locking up the place it’s almost 1am.

He’s starting to think the only reason Mingyu fled was because so he wouldn’t have to tidy up.

Not like Wonwoo could’ve made him clean with him, but _still_.

Wonwoo walks toward his apartment building and watches his breath make little clouds as he fishes inside his bag for his phone, and what he sees when he unlocks it has him furrowing his brows.

He finds three missed calls from his brother, which was odd, because his brother never called him; it was always just his mom and occasionally his dad, but never Bohyuk.

A spike of unease runs through Wonwoo’s blood, immediately assuming the worst because why the _hell_ would his brother call him when it’s nearly 1am? He feels like something bad is happening.

Walking through the chilly autumn night while waiting for his brother to pick up is especially detrimental to him, every ring only adds up to his nerves and every passing second feels like a situation is worsening without him knowing.

Wonwoo’s heart leaps to his throat when the ringing stops and his brother’s voice greets him.

“Hyung!” His brother sounds frantic, “I’ve been trying to call you for hours, where have you been?”

“Bohyuk,” Wonwoo tries to calm him down, “I worked late. What’s wrong? Just tell me.”

“It’s dad.”

Wonwoo stops in his tracks, and his scarf whips around and hits him but he doesn’t pay mind to it. The white noise on the other side of the line has all of his attention.

“What about him?” Wonwoo asks, and he can’t take the long pause that greets him, “Bohyuk tell me!”

“Hyung,” His brother’s voice cracks, and Wonwoo bites his lip, “mom doesn’t want me to tell you and that’s why I’m calling in the middle of the night, but dad’s eyes are getting worse. The doctors are watching him closely and trying to see if this is any indication for anything worse. Hyung, they said that it could lead to a stroke and they’re urging us to look into surgery.”

“Have you tried contacting our relatives for help? Uncle Jinho?”

“I tried ringing all of them but none of them are answering, they even ignored me when I used mom’s phone to call them.”

Wonwoo shakes his head, _those bastards… they we’re pretty fucking present when we had money._

“Hyung, I don’t know what to do.” Bohyuk whispers.

Wonwoo takes a deep breath, a hand running through his hair and pulling at the roots. He doesn’t know what to do either, the only thing he knows is that the hospital bills are gonna be a bitch to pay, and the money he earns is barely enough to pay off their debt.

“Hyung? Are you there?”

“Yeah, yeah just,” Wonwoo closes his eyes, “just give me a moment.”

“I’m so sorry, hyung. But mom was crying earlier and I didn’t want to see her like that but I didn’t know what to do. She said she was going to take up some part time jobs but I don’t even know if she can take them, she’s–” Bohyuk sobs, and Wonwoo just about feels his heart crack at the sound, “I’m sorry, I’m– I just don’t want her to get sick too, hyung. I don’t want to bother you but–“

“You are _never_ a bother to me, you hear?” Wonwoo raises his head, feeling a few tears pooling at his eyes, but he sucks it up, he can’t let his brother hear him cry, “Thank you for telling me, I’ll figure something out, okay?”

Wonwoo wants to throw his phone, wants to scream and break down in the middle of the street and yell at the universe for giving him and his family such a hard time; ask it what its problem is and why it can’t choose anyone else to pick at.

But he can’t do that, he has his little brother waiting on the other side of the line. He can’t think of himself when he has somebody depending on him like that.

He needs to be strong for all of them.

“Bohyuk?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry you had to go through this… But I’ll get us past it, okay?” Wonwoo takes a shaky breath, “I promise. Just hold on for hyung.”

“Yeah.”

Wonwoo wipes at his cheek, “Watch over mom and dad for me, alright? Just keep giving me updates; can I trust you with that?”

“Ok… hyung?”

“Yeah?”

“I miss you.” Bohyuk whispers, probably hoping that Wonwoo wouldn’t hear. But he does. Of course he does.

“I miss you too, kid.”

“Bye.”

Wonwoo hums, and when he hears the phone click, his knees buckle, and he crouches down near the cold pavement and feels tears trickle down his face uncontrollably.

He doesn’t know how long he stays there, but his fingers are numb from the cold and his eyes are a swollen red when he falls into his bed for the night.

He doesn’t, _can’t,_ sleep.

 

The next morning, Wonwoo tries to look for another job right after he finishes his last class, but nothing seems to work for him, he even managed to drop his notes _again_ , so he decides to give it up today and try tomorrow.

Wonwoo dials his dad’s number the moment he lets his bag down on his bedside table.

He’s so worried, and he wants to talk to his father because, regretfully, he hasn’t done so for quite some time.

“Wonwoo, son!”

His father greets with such enthusiasm, as if he isn’t sick, and Wonwoo thinks about how his mom is exactly the same; then he wonders why he didn’t get that from any of them.

“Dad, how are you?”

“Your old man is getting old, Wonwoo, but I’m doing fine. What made you call today?”

_Why are you lying?_

“Can’t I call my own dad because I miss him?”

“Son,” His dad pauses, and Wonwoo’s worried that he just exposed himself, “you’re going soft on me! What did you have for lunch today?”

His father laughs, and it’s such a light sound, if Wonwoo didn’t know any better he’d believe that his father was doing perfectly fine.

But he did know better, and now he’s just worried about how good of an actor his father is, how much pain he could stow away before anyone notices

“I only had a cheeseburger.”

“That isn’t healthy, Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo hums, “Maybe.”

“Eat some real food, won’t you?”

“Cheeseburgers aren’t augmented.”

“You’re still a little smartass, aren’t you?”

Wonwoo chuckles, and he hears his father do the same, and they talk for a few more minutes before his dad tells him that he has to do something and bids goodbye.

“Come visit soon okay?”

Wonwoo hums in approval, and when his father utters a small ‘ _I love you’,_ Wonwoo doesn’t have to force himself to say it back. Because he does love his father; and the hollow yet heavy feeling he’s left with when the call ends is enough of a push for him to do anything just to keep him alright.    

 

Wonwoo turns in his bed for the nth time that night.

He holds in his hands what might be the answer to all his problems, but he doesn’t know how many more problems it might bring, so he’s been tossing and turning around his bed and trying to come up with a concrete decision.

Whether to call the number on the card or not.

 _It’s just Mingyu,_ he thinks, _and he was the one who keeps insisting that you do it so there shouldn’t be an issue._

But that’s the thing, he doesn’t know _why_ Mingyu’s so insistent on fake dating him when he’s just a lowly scholar who bumped into him and caused him to fall flat on his ass in one unforgettable event.

He’s nobody special, and he’s aware of all the attention Mingyu gets inside the campus, is he willing to submit himself to the amount of looks he’s going to get from Mingyu’s admirers? Of all the gossip and the whispers and the ‘ _he isn’t worth it_ ’s?

Is he willing to put up with all of Mingyu’s antics and teasing? What if Mingyu makes him do things he doesn’t want to do? He _really_ doesn’t want to be a live sex toy for a six foot tall hormonal man.

But the black card is what keeps making him reconsider; it’s what he needed the most right now. If what Mingyu said was true then he can provide money for his father’s bills _and_ pay off their debts.

Wonwoo punches the number in and types a short message.

 

**to: mingyu**

_-  I’ll do it._

 

His thumb hovers over the little paper plane, still having second thoughts about the deal.

“Ugh.” Wonwoo groans, covering his eyes with his forearm.

He thinks about the worse case scenarios, the embarrassment he’s going to go through from judgmental people, the attention Mingyu draws to himself that will consequently be drawn to him as well, being used and abused and hurt.

But then Wonwoo remembers the way his brother’s voice cracked on the phone last night, his mother’s singing, his father’s laughter; and he decides it doesn’t matter anymore.

He presses send.

 

* * *

 

Mingyu steps inside the elevator and clicks on the topmost floor of the building, twisting the key inside the keyhole beside his floor number to open the elevator door.

He lives in the private penthouse suite of one of his father’s condominiums, conveniently placed four stoplights away from his university; he lives alone, of course, and he’s fine with it.

At least he knows he’s alone and not being purposely ignored by the people who live with him, _actually_ being alone is so much better than that.

And when he finishes making dinner for himself and showering for the night, he remembers what happened earlier and immediately checks his phone for Wonwoo’s call, only to be met with a photo of his dog as his lockscreen.

He hasn’t called.

Mingyu tries to not be disappointed. He really did expect Wonwoo to call, especially after what Mingyu did before leaving; which was shameless, but he hoped it would work. Now he guesses it didn’t.

_Maybe Wonwoo fell asleep?_

Yeah, that must be why.

And when he’s tucking himself into his comforter, Mingyu unlocks his phone again but still, nothing.

Mingyu stares at the light fixtures at the top of his headboard, sighing into the darkness and unlocking his phone again.

_1:19am._

He could wait, he would wait until 1:30, and _then_ he’s going to sleep.

But his eyelids are getting heavier with each passing minute, and by 1:26am, he’s already knocked out.

 

The next night is pretty much the same, but in his desperation, Mingyu falls asleep with his phone in his hands.

At 5am, he’s startled awake by his phone vibrating. He gets up with a grumpy groan because he didn’t set a fucking alarm for ass o’clock in the morning and he doesn’t appreciate being prematurely pulled out from his dreams.

But upon raising his hand with his now unlocked phone, his eyes almost bulge out of his head with the message displayed on the screen.

 

**from: unknown number**

_-  I’ll do it._

Mingyu stares at his phone for a good few seconds, it’s too early for his heart to be beating this fast and he refuses to believe that the message is from the person in his mind right now.

He sends him a text back just to be sure.

 

**to: unknown number**

_-  I’m sorry but who’s this?_

Mingyu chews on his lips, and the three minute wait for a reply might as well be the longest three minutes of his life.

 

**from: unknown number**

_-  It’s wonwoo._

He reads the message once, twice, and an uncountable number of times more, before a wide smile blooms on his face.

“Yes!” He leaps out his bed, and with the knowledge that he is completely alone he makes a conscious decision to start wiggling himself like a worm being salted in the sun.

Mingyu’s dancing at five o’clock in the morning, that’s how happy he is.

Still in his striped pajamas, he saunters his way to the kitchen and makes the most perfect scrambled eggs ever, together with some perfectly crispy bacon and perfectly bitter coffee.

Yep, his day is off to a good start.

 

* * *

 

Wonwoo stands awkwardly in front of the white fucking _Bentley_ that Mingyu just led him to.

He has absolutely no idea what to do, and he’s too afraid of staining or breaking anything to make a move.

Earlier, in the middle of his lecture hall, Wonwoo received an ominous text from who might be his brand new benefactor, and he wonders if this is how he’s going to be booty called from now on since he _finally_ agreed to Mingyu’s little scheme.

 

**from: mingyu**

_-  Let’s meet after your classes._

Wonwoo hesitates before sending a small ‘ _ok’_ back, which gained him a smiley face in return, and he doesn’t reply anymore because what do you say to a fucking smiley face?

Before the bell could ring to signal their dismissal, Wonwoo receives another text from Mingyu,

 

**from: mingyu**

_-  I’ll wait for you outside your lecture hall_

He blinks down at his phone, and he just knows that Mingyu’s already standing outside the very room he’s in and turning heads with his ash gray hair and pretty face, he might even be smiling back at a couple of girls who pass by.

But that doesn’t bother Wonwoo, not at all.

It doesn’t bother him so much, that he takes his time in packing his things and making his _boyfriend(?)_ wait. (Barf, okay, he’s not going to call Mingyu a boyfriend anytime soon, maybe benefactor really is the word for him).

He spots Mingyu immediately, leaning against his locker and playing with his phone. He looks like he’s typing actually, and when he puts his phone down Wonwoo immediately feels his own phone vibrate in his hand.

 

**from: mingyu**

_-  are you outside already?  
_

Wonwoo doesn’t reply, instead he walks towards his locker until the boy catches sight of him, Mingyu’s face lighting up for such a short time that Wonwoo thinks he might’ve just made it up in his head.

When they’re close enough, Wonwoo gives Mingyu a small smile, “Why’d you want to meet?”

“Let’s get lunch together.”

“Uhm, sure.”

“C’mon. My car’s over there.” Mingyu pushes himself off Wonwoo’s locker and starts walking.

“Wait, let me just get my things…” Wonwoo trails off, but Mingyu was already off and Wonwoo rolls his eyes before shoving all of his stuff into his bag and running after him.

That’s how Wonwoo found himself in this situation, staring at the expensive looking car and turning into an inanimate object right before it.

“Well?” Wonwoo startles and looks at Mingyu, who’s smirking down at him, “aren’t you gonna get in?”

“I don’t…”

“I get it,” Mingyu chuckles, opening the door before moving aside, “I can be a proper gentleman, Wonwoo.”

 _That’s not it,_ Wonwoo thinks, but he gets in and shakes his head at the smug look on Mingyu’s face as he hops in from the other side.

The car rumbles to life with a press of a button, and Wonwoo’s left to gape at the pristine interior in silence, letting his eyes drift over to Mingyu every now and then, but mostly looking out the window to figure out where he’s taking him.

When the scenery starts getting unfamiliar and starts looking like the rather posh side of the neighborhood, Wonwoo straightens up in his seat.

He didn’t prepare anything special, he didn’t even dress up, and he feels impeccably out of place while observing the stores outside the car. He suddenly remembers the way Mingyu looked at him before – with genuine disgust at his choice of clothing– and he feels as though he’s made the wrong move when he agreed with Mingyu.

What does being someone’s fake boyfriend even entail?

He doesn’t know, so he sits quietly in the front seat of a sports car he could never afford, until the silence starts eating at him and the view from outside starts closing in on him and he can’t sit quietly any longer.

“Sorry if it sounds rude,” Wonwoo turns to look at Mingyu, who only hums to show that he’s listening, and Wonwoo doesn’t know how to address him with their current arrangement, “but where are you taking me, _sir_?”

Mingyu whips his head so fast at him, they almost swerved to another lane, “Since when did you call me _sir_?”

“I’m sorry, I–”

Wonwoo blushes. Admittedly, he would _never_ call Mingyu ‘sir’ if their circumstances were different, “I thought it would be right, considering our set-up…”

“Wonwoo,” Mingyu chuckles, turning right at the next intersection, “you’re pretending to be my boyfriend, not my PA.”

Wonwoo‘s eyes widen at Mingyu’s words, and he feels heat crawl up his neck and settle on his cheeks. He clears his throat before facing Mingyu, who’s now grinning sideways at him.

“I think people would find it weird if they hear my boyfriend calling me that, too.” Mingyu taps his thumb on the steering wheel, “Don’t call me sir. Mingyu is fine.”

“Okay, but,” Wonwoo realizes that Mingyu’s slowing the car down, “where are we _going_?”

“I said we’re going to get lunch, didn’t I?” Mingyu finds a parking spot and pulls the hand break, clicking his seatbelt open and turning to face Wonwoo completely, “So I brought us to my favorite resto. We also have something we need to talk about.”

“And that something is?”

“We’ll talk about it when we get inside.” Mingyu shrugs, getting out of the car and opening Wonwoo’s door, much like he did earlier.

 

“Just try their Penne-Pesto.”

“It’s okay, I’m not that hungry.”

“Wonwoo. You need to eat.”

Wonwoo sighs, they’re currently seated at a booth inside Mingyu’s favorite restaurant which serves mostly Italian food, and they’ve been going back and forth about what to eat for five minutes straight.

Which is mostly because Wonwoo keeps refusing the food being offered to him, but that’s not the point.

The point is that a waiter has been watching them bicker over pasta for five minutes and Wonwoo doesn’t know if the smile plastered on the man’s face is genuine or if they’re being real huge pains in the ass for him.

He sends another glance at the waiter before finally agreeing, and Mingyu relays the order to the waiter before turning back to face Wonwoo, leaning his weight on the table, “Why did you agree?”

“The food looks good.”

“Not that.” Mingyu says, scratching at the skin just below his wristwatch, “What made you agree to my proposition? What changed your mind?”

Wonwoo sits back, folding his fingers in his lap and playing with thumbs. Mingyu keeps looking at him expectantly, and Wonwoo, again, doesn’t know what to do or say.

 _There was a very abrupt necessity._ “I realized it was a pretty good deal.”

“Oh.” Mingyu frowns, and Wonwoo thinks he said the wrong thing, especially when the expectant glint in Mingyu’s eyes die down to a guarded expression.

Wonwoo’s eyes follow the movement of Mingyu’s fingers when he pulls his sweater sleeve over his wrists, and he looks back up when Mingyu starts talking.

“Okay, well, we have to lay down some conditions,” Mingyu’s speaking in a clipped tone, his brows furrowed, “but there won’t be a lot from me, only two. You can go ahead and add yours if you feel like there’s something missing.”

“Sure.”

“One, we have to try to be comfortable with each other's presence.” Mingyu starts, “I don’t want to feel like I’m with someone who can’t stand me and is only working with me because they _have_ to.”

He sighs, and when he looks at Wonwoo again he’s wearing the same expectant expression as earlier.

“Even if we’re just pretending, I’d appreciate it if we act as real as we can get.”

Mingyu stares at him after saying that, and Wonwoo gulps.

He’s never had a boyfriend before, he doesn’t know how _real,_ real is; and he doesn’t want to ask Mingyu because he’d rather not make himself an idiot In front of him.

He’s just gonna have to wing it, then.

“Do you object to that?”

“No… Mingyu, why are you talking like that?”

“Talking like what?”

Wonwoo sighs, “Like you’re a broker who needs to close a deal. C’mon, it’s scary.”

“I just wanted to make things formal,” Mingyu shrugs, “but since you don’t object to the first condition, here’s the second.”

Wonwoo nods, keeping his mouth shut because Mingyu doesn’t seem like he’s going to let his front go any time soon, and their food arrives, Wonwoo thanking the waiter before turning back to Mingyu.

“Two, you can terminate the deal anytime, all you have to do is give the card back.” Mingyu pulls out a black envelope from his coat pocket and hands it over to Wonwoo, pinched between his pointer and middle finger.

Wonwoo takes the envelope and his mouth goes dry.

_It’s that easy?_

He can give the card back, and the whole thing would be over? Simple as that?

He opens his mouth to question the condition, but Mingyu beats him to it, as if he read his mind, “I’m not keeping you hostage, Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo sighs, relief flooding his chest as a smile spreads on his lips; it’s too good to be true, “Thank you.”

Mingyu chuckles, “Do you want to add anything to the conditions?”

“No. I’m–“ Wonwoo breathes out, a hand running through his hair, “shit. That’s really all that I have to do? You aren’t going to make me do anything else?”

“Yeah,” Mingyu tilts his head to the side, “I did tell you that I won’t expect much from you once you agree, didn’t I?”

“I thought you weren’t serious…”

“Well, I was.” Mingyu shrugs, taking the cutlery in front of him then pointing at Wonwoo’s food with a fork, “Now eat up, your food’s getting cold.”

Wonwoo blinks at him, and he doesn’t notice the smile that grows on his face after taking the first bite of his meal. But it’s not about how delicious the food is; it’s about something else entirely.

And it resembles the little ball of muscle in his chest that starts beating happily because of the man in front of him.

“Oh, and I need your address.” Mingyu interrupts his thoughts after a few bites into his food, and it takes a few seconds before the question sinks in and Wonwoo’s brow starts furrowing.

“What? Why?”

Mingyu shrugs, ”Reasons.”

 

“If I knew ‘reasons’ meant this, I wouldn’t have given you my address.”

Wonwoo’s standing on the bottom of his apartment’s staircase, gripping his bag straps tightly while Mingyu smirks at him from where he’s leaning over his car.

“I’m giving you a free ride to campus and you’re frowning at me?”

Wonwoo groans, throwing his head back and placing his palms over his eyes. He takes a few deep breaths before he faces Mingyu again. He squints at him and Mingyu openly laughs at his expression.

Mingyu tries to stifle his laughter behind his hand, “What’s wrong with your face?”

“You didn’t tell me you were coming over.”

“I wanted to surprise you.”

Wonwoo groans again, walking closer until he’s in front of MIngyu, keeping in mind to not touch the car before whispering, “Please don’t tell me you’ll be doing this everyday.”

There’s something playful in Mingyu’s eyes when he tilts his head, and Wonwoo finds himself rooted to the spot as the boy rests it on the fold of his arms, staring at Wonwoo and making goosebumps raise at the back of his neck.

He’s not used to being looked at so intently, he feels a little bit naked at what Mingyu’s doing.

And then Mingyu grins at him, “There’s nothing stopping me, Won.”

“Mingyu!” Wonwoo whisper-yells, his face set on a glare at the obnoxious laughter coming from the younger.

He grips his bag straps harder, looking up to their bedroom widow and thanking god that his roommate is still asleep… if he saw this shit he’d never live it down.

Mingyu must think worried look in his face is hilarious, because he starts laughing harder. And if Wonwoo’s roommate was still asleep then he’s definitely be woken up by how loud Mingyu is being; they only live at the second floor, and Wonwoo’s sure that Mingyu’s voice resonates up to the fourth.

“Stop laughing.” Wonwoo says through gritted teeth; with a lapse in judgment, he leans over the car and places his hand over Mingyu’s mouth.

Mingyu stops laughing, his eyes widening in surprise at Wonwoo’s action.

Wonwoo mirrors his expression, his wide eyes dropping to where his hand covers Mingyu’s lips before quickly retracting it as if he’s been burned, his heartbeat spiking up because what the _fuck_ did he just do?

Wonwoo steps back, his hands curling into fists as he stares at the ground in embarrassment, he stutters around an apology, “S-sorry, I’m,”

“We should get going.”

Wonwoo peers at Mingyu, but the boy doesn’t meet his gaze, ducking into the car and starting up the engine, letting Wonwoo get in by himself to endure the awkward ride ahead.

 

Wonwoo holds the envelope up towards the ceiling, twisting it around in his fingers and contemplating whether or not he should open it.

Earlier that evening, he’s been picked up by Mingyu from the coffee shop, and though he protested by saying that he can get home by himself, Mingyu insisted and waited for his shift to end.

And Wonwoo’s not going to admit it, but he liked the thought that _that_ could be a new routine for them.

Now he’s in their bedroom, his roommate passed out on the bed parallel his, and he keeps checking to see if the boy is actually asleep. He doesn’t want anyone snooping around when he checks the contents of the envelope.

Not that he’s turning into his own version of Gollum or something, he just believes that if there are less people who know then there are fewer things to handle.

And he’d like to stay as the only one who knows.

Wonwoo turns his head to check at his roommate again, bringing his hand down and sighing, “What do I do with myself?”

He blinks up at the ceiling a couple of times, before getting out from under the covers and switching his desk lamp on.

Wonwoo turns the envelope in his hand again, and then he places it on his desk as he quietly rummages through his drawers for a cutter; when he finally finds one he sits down on his desk chair and carefully slides through the seal.

Once it’s opened, he reaches inside to find a single black card and a slip of cardboard paper.

He knew the card would be there, but the paper came as a surprise, so he takes it out first and sees the PIN written on it in neat handwriting, and a small ‘ _Thank you and Enjoy’_ written with gold ink in an elegant cursive font.

Wonwoo chuckles at the greeting card. Mingyu probably paid somebody to do the calligraphy, and Wonwoo commends his effort.

Putting the greeting card back, he reaches for the _actual_ card.

It’s completely black, with a solid gold line at the back. And in front, the words _Kim Mingyu_ and _Kim Group of Companies,_ is embossed in gold.

Wonwoo’s stares at Mingyu’s name, his thumb running over the letters and taking in the meaning of what he’s holding in his hand.

Mingyu won the socioeconomic lottery, and he just about gave a part of it to Wonwoo.

Looking out their bedroom window, Wonwoo sees nothing but clouds, and he knows something bad might come from this, but he isn’t afraid at all.

 

The next morning, Wonwoo spots Mingyu’s car parked in front of their apartment again, and he jogs downstairs to greet him.

Well, to _tease_ him, actually; he still finds the fact that Mingyu had someone write _Thank you and Enjoy_ in such a fancy way just for a greeting card.

Wonwoo knocks on the window, making Mingyu look up from his phone and flash him a grin, unlocking the car so Wonwoo can come in.

“Good morning.” Wonwoo greets, clicking his seatbelt in.

Mingyu raises an eyebrow at him before chuckling and starting the engine, “You’re looking incredibly jolly today.”

“I opened the envelope yesterday.”

“Just yesterday?” Mingyu snorts, “I thought you would’ve opened it the day I gave it to you.”

“I felt like I had to let the monster sit before I touch it.”

Mingyu makes a U-turn and gives him a sideways glance, “Did you just call the card a monster?”

“Money _is_ the root of all evil.” Wonwoo says matter-of-factly, “And you know what I noticed?”

Mingyu hums, stopping at a red light, and Wonwoo smirks; which Mingyu definitely notices, because his eyes are slits when he looks at him again.

“The calligraphy was nice…” Wonwoo snickers. And Mingyu stares at him for a bit before facing forward to drive again, the roar of the engine a direct comparison to the laughter bubbling up at Wonwoo’s throat.

“Thanks, I did it last minute.”

“HAH– wait, you what?” Wonwoo crosses his arms. Now it was his turn to raise a brow at the boy because there’s no way in _hell_ he heard that correctly.

“I did it last minute,” Mingyu says, slower this time, “when I received your text at 5am I rush wrote it… Why are you looking at me like that?”

Mingyu drives past the university gates while Wonwoo stares intently at him. He’s read somewhere that keeping eye contact with a person forces them to admit they’re lying, but it doesn’t seem to be working for Mingyu, “Don’t tell me you actually made it yourself?”

“I did. Why? You don’t like it?” Mingyu says, craning his neck to look for a parking spot, “I was in a rush so I didn’t make it that pretty.”

“Seriously?” Wonwoo’s mouth falls open because he _did_ like it and it _was_ pretty. He imagines Mingyu with a pen brush dipped in gold and creating the lettering with careful brushstrokes while the sun rises behind him, but then Jeon Wonwoo realizes that he doesn’t even know _where_ he should imagine Mingyu making that… in the library of his mansion, probably, “What can you _not_ do?”

“I don’t know,” Mingyu shrugs before backing up at the free space he spots near their college building, his hand behind Wonwoo’s headrest, which Wonwoo becomes overly aware of. His neck prickles but Mingyu draws his hand back a second later. He pulls the hand break when he’s done and spares Wonwoo a glance, “Shop at Walmart, I guess.”

“What’s wrong with Walmart?”

“Too cheap.”

Wonwoo furrows his brows, _of course_ he’d say something like that. Mingyu probably has three different maids who do his grocery shopping for him, meanwhile Wonwoo _depends_ on Walmart to provide his broke ass any sort of _cheap_ food.

He really has to have a talk with Mingyu about insensitivity.

Wonwoo unbuckles his seatbelt and Mingyu opens the car door for him, but he squints at him before getting out of the car and walking ahead.

“I’ll definitely drag your ass to Walmart one day…” Wonwoo mumbles, hearing Mingyu catching up to him.

“What was that?” Mingyu asks, falling into step with Wonwoo’s pace.

“I said I liked the lettering,” Wonwoo faces Mingyu, smiling sarcastically at him, “you did great.”

Wonwoo could’ve said that with a hundred percent honesty, but whenever Mingyu spews constant shit through his mouth, he makes it impossibly hard for Wonwoo to do so.

“Yeah?” Mingyu scratches the back of his neck, “It’s been a long time, good to know I haven’t rusted that much.”

Wonwoo slows down, “What do you mean ‘it’s been a long time’?”

“I just haven’t done that in a long time.”

“Why not?”

“Haven’t got a reason to,” Wonwoo sees Mingyu scratch at his wrist, and he’s about to comment on it when Mingyu continues, “let’s not talk about that.”

Mingyu walks faster, and Wonwoo needs to speed up just to catch up to him, and once their side by side again, nobody asks questions anymore. They walk in silence until they’re stepping inside their college building, Wonwoo not really knowing what to do or say since Mingyu cut him off earlier.

“What time are you being dismissed?” Mingyu finally breaks the silence, and Wonwoo notices that he’s not diverging from his route like he did yesterday; Mingyu’s walking him to his locker.

“Two,” Wonwoo opens his locker and takes out his calculus textbook, and when he closes it, Mingyu’s leaning on the next locker, “Why?”

“I’ll wait for you, let’s eat lunch together.” Mingyu pushes himself off the locker and ruffles Wonwoo’s hair.

Wonwoo huffs, catching Mingyu’s forearm to get him to stop, and though Mingyu freezes in his grasp, Wonwoo doesn’t let go.

“Why? What time are _you_ being dismissed?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Mingyu says, grinning at him, and Wonwoo notes that he’s still holding the boy’s wrist so he lets him go, “See you later, Won.”

Mingyu walks backwards, and Wonwoo worries about the people that clumsy boy might bump into, but he’s still grinning and he turns around before causing any remarkable damage.

Wonwoo shakes his head at Mingyu’s retreating figure, his hand reaching up to fix his hair when something dawns on him…

Why did he feel the need to hold on to him like that?

Wonwoo groans and ruffles his hair again, stepping into his lecture hall and ignoring the erratic thud behind his ribcage.

 

Their little arrangement continues like that, and on the night of the fourth day, Wonwoo finds himself staring at the card once again.

His roommate wasn’t home, he received a message from him earlier saying that he’s staying over one of his classmate’s house to process their thesis; which is a shame because he’s quite warmed up to the boy and it’s the first time he got home earlier than six, and Wonwoo, for the first time in his hermit life, actually wants to have a conversation with him.

So now he’s resorted to staring at his little savior that at the same time is his huge burden, and he wonders when he should use it; if he should use it at all.

Why shouldn’t he, right? That’s his reward for holding up his end of the deal.

And the deal, so far, it hasn’t caused him that much trouble. He can ignore the not so subtle looks from everyone who sees him walk with Mingyu to his locker, and he can pretend that the whispers exchanged between people around him when they talk aren’t about them.

Wonwoo should charge Mingyu for making him endure all of this by now.

But somehow it feels wrong, Wonwoo’s never used anyone else’s money, all of the money he gives to his parents and uses on himself were from working shift after shift, overtime after overtime.

He lets the card down on his bed and reaches for his phone, dialing his father’s number quickly to ask a lot of _theoretical_ questions.

But upon hearing his father’s greeting, Jeon Wonwoo wanted to hang up.

He doesn’t recognize his voice.

“Wonwoo,” His father’s voice is hoarse, like he has a sore throat, and it lacks the usual cheerful tone that has him smiling every time.

Wonwoo doesn’t understand, it’s been last than a week since he last called, how can he sound so much worse in just days?

“Dad, are you okay?” Wonwoo clenches his hand over his lap, trying to contain his worry in his fist.

His father clears his throat, “Of course, son. Just need to drink some water is all.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, why did you call so suddenly? Is there something wrong?”

All of the questions about what to do with the card flies out of Wonwoo’s mind, his focus being on how to make sure that his father will be okay because he does _not_ sound okay, not like how he’s supposed to be.

“No,” Wonwoo bites his lip, “There’s nothing wrong but, but maybe I should come over? Do you want me to come over, dad? I’ll ride the next bus to Changwon and–“

“Jeon Wonwoo,” His father cuts him off with a stern voice, “I do not need you to do that.”

“But dad…”

“What I need you to do is focus on school,” His father’s voice is calm again, and Wonwoo can see the sad smile on his face just by his voice, “and don’t worry about us. We can handle ourselves here.”

Wonwoo wants to protest, wants to tell him that he’s obviously not alright and that doesn’t sit well with him at all, but his father tells him that he needs to go, cutting their conversation short and leaving Wonwoo to wonder where he needs to go.

He thinks of the hospital, and his heart cracks within his chest.

Eyeing the card on his bed, Wonwoo only takes a split second to snatch it up together with his coat and walk out the door.

 

* * *

 

Mingyu’s phone keeps buzzing on his bedside table.

Popping one eye open, he lazily pats around, and nearly drops his phone when he bumps it over; luckily he catches it, but not without knocking his hand on the table’s leg.

“Shit.”

If the mini heart attack from almost dropping his phone wasn’t enough to wake him up, then the pain shooting up his hand was; and when he unlocks his phone he sees that it’s only 6:30am, certainly not the appropriate time to wake up when your classes start at 12.

Mingyu groans, rubbing at his eyes before sitting up to check at whom the _fuck_ has the audacity to spam message him at the asscrack of dawn, and his eyebrows promptly meet at the middle.

Reading and re-reading the message, he makes sure he’s counted the number of zeroes right, before he drops his phone collapses back into bed with a whine.

He is so _fucked._

 

The car drives too fast over a hump, making Mingyu hold on to the steering wheel in fear of being thrown forward at the windshield by the force.

He curses and slows down, parking in head first at the first free spot he sees.

Mingyu just came from the company after hours of fuming over a certain someone, waiting for the time when he can leave to have a talk with him.

Killing the engine, Mingyu reaches for his bag on the passenger seat, taking his phone and sending a message before getting out of the car.

 

**to: Jeon**

_-  where are you?_

 

Mingyu sends the message, slamming his car door closed before walking in a furious strut towards their building.

He holds his phone a bit tighter in his hand.

Last night, Wonwoo texted him to not pick him up, and Mingyu, being exhausted from the time he spent at the office after classes that day, doesn’t think twice about it and agrees, falling face down on his bed and promptly passing out.

He didn’t know what Wonwoo would be doing to ask for that, and he most certainly didn’t expect it to be for _this_.

_What the fuck was Jeon Wonwoo thinking?_

 

**from: Jeon**

_-  At the pavilion, just packing up my things. Why?_

**to: Jeon**

_-  I’ll meet you in the garden, wait for me._

Earlier that morning, Mingyu’s bank sent him two consecutive messages for confirmation of identity.

What for?

For two withdrawals worth five thousand dollars each.

An outstanding total of ten thousand dollars were withdrawn from his bank account last night, and it couldn’t have been him since he was out cold, and the only person who has access to his fucking account was Wonwoo.

Sure, he didn’t mind losing that much money, but couldn’t Wonwoo tell him beforehand? Mingyu hasn’t used that black card for months and the alert it caused to the bank must’ve been a shock when his first withdrawal after _months_ costs ten thousand _dollars._

Mingyu’s pace quickens, a hand running through his hair in frustration so he stuffs the both of his them inside his coat pockets lest he pull all of his hair out.

Taking the shortcut at the side of the building, Mingyu sees the pavilion and reaches the garden in no time.

He scans the area and finds Wonwoo sitting on a stone bench with a book in his hands, head bowed down and looking peaceful –an absolute contrast to the panic that he caused in Mingyu, and it takes Mingyu away for a few seconds before he comes back to reality.

Wonwoo’s glasses slip from his nose, and when he pushes it up, Mingyu takes a deep breath.

“Jeon Wonwoo!”

The boy looks up, and if Mingyu wasn’t so frustrated at him he could coo at how adorably confused his face looks.

Wonwoo stands up, a finger kept in between the pages of his book. “Mingyu,” He says, his brows furrowed as Mingyu walks towards him, “what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?!” Mingyu stops a few steps from Wonwoo, feeling stupid that he’s this upset when he _did_ allow Wonwoo to do whatever he wanted with the card. His internal conflict makes him raise his voice at Wonwoo’s nonchalance. “I know I said I don’t care, but what the hell are you supposed to do wi–“

A loud ringtone interrupts Mingyu, making the both of them freeze up and Wonwoo widen his eyes.

Wonwoo smiles sheepishly, holding a finger up while he fishes for his phone in his bag. He presses it against his ear and turns his back toward Mingyu, “Mom…”

He starts walking away, and Mingyu kind of just stands there dumbly and tries to make out what their conversation is about by what he hears from Wonwoo.

“Really?” He hears Wonwoo say, before he sees him run his free hand through his hair and tug at it, “Mom, that’s… that’s good.”

Wonwoo ducks his head and Mingyu hears him sniffle, his sigh a shaky exhale of breath against the cold air while he nods his head quickly.

Mingyu worries that Wonwoo might be crying, and it makes something twist at the pit of his stomach, making him step forward to get closer and offer comfort if needed.

But then Wonwoo chuckles, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth and scratch at his nose, which scrunches up adorably as his smile gets even bigger.

“Mom, I didn’t!” Wonwoo chuckles again, “I promise, I just… won the lottery,”

Wonwoo looks back at him with a watery smile, his lower lip quivering before he takes it in between his teeth, and Mingyu slowly understands the situation before him. “your son’s one lucky guy.”

Wonwoo keeps his eyes on Mingyu when he says that, and Mingyu starts to feel lightheaded in his gaze, the upturn of Wonwoo’s lips a hook and line for Mingyu’s heart.

They talk for a few more moments, and Mingyu keeps quiet to let Wonwoo have some time with his mom, silently observing their conversation and how Wonwoo’s face lights up at his mother’s words.

This. This must be what Wonwoo was thinking about when he did what he did last night. And honestly, Mingyu can’t find it in him to be mad anymore.

He’s actually very much endeared right now.

When Wonwoo puts his phone down, his back is still turned to Mingyu, and when he faces him there’s a huge smile on his face, making Mingyu’s jaw drop.

“Won–“

Wonwoo comes running towards him, and Mingyu doesn’t have enough time to process what’s happening before Wonwoo’s throwing his arms around him.

Mingyu stumbles back, but unlike the first time they met, Mingyu doesn’t fall flat on his ass; though he’s certainly still as flustered by Wonwoo as back then.

Mingyu’s brain short-circuits, and he finds that he doesn’t know what to do with his hands, so they stay limp at his sides.

“Thank you.” Wonwoo tightens his arms around him, burying his face in his neck, “Mingyu, Thank you.”

Mingyu opens his mouth to say something, but his mind is devoid of anything but the fact that Wonwoo is here and he’s _hugging_ him and Mingyu’s never liked being touched but he feels so _comfortable_ here.

Wonwoo sniffles, and Mingyu’s hands move on their own, snaking around the boy’s waist and holding him gently, rubbing small circles on his back until he calms down, his heart thrumming erratically in his chest from their proximity.

Wonwoo pulls a fraction away, keeping his hands on Mingyu’s shoulders, “I’ll do an even better job at pretending to be your boyfriend,” He says, eyes frantic in glee as he looks into Mingyu’s, taking his breath away with its intensity, “I promise you that.”

Mingyu gulps, his hands subconsciously tightening their hold on Wonwoo, pressing him even closer and reveling at the gasp Wonwoo takes.

He holds on to it, every word and every breath.

“What were you going to say earlier?” Wonwoo asks, eyes searching his. Mingyu can only blink back because they’re still so, so close –and he’s about to lose his mind.

“It,” Mingyu shakes his head, “it was nothing, Won.”

“You looked pretty pissed though.”

Wonwoo licks his lips, and Mingyu’s eyes follow the movement only to realize that their foreheads are almost touching, that’s how close they were.

Mingyu feels heat climb to his face, and he pushes Wonwoo away gently, “Don’t worry about it.”

Wonwoo seems to notice their position as well, stepping back a little further from him and Mingyu reluctantly lets him go.

He sends Mingyu a shy smile as he wipes his eyes from underneath his glasses, the tips of his ears turning red. Mingyu relishes in the fact that he caused that, but he realizes that he isn’t in a better condition, so he doesn’t comment on it.

“Sorry,” Wonwoo rubs his arm, “for, you know, coming at you out of nowhere…”

“Don’t apologize,” Mingyu says, and he doesn’t miss the twitch in Wonwoo’s lips when the boy looks up, “I don’t mind.”

Wonwoo’s smile is mischievous, an eyebrow up in question, “So you liked me hugging you?”

“I-I didn’t say that.” Mingyu sputters and he just knows that his face is burning even redder than before, his embarrassment making itself more noticeable by the passing second.

Wonwoo chuckles at his flustered face and Mingyu’s chest lights up with something he can’t put a finger on, much like it did the first time Wonwoo smiled at him. It has him gritting his teeth to rein his emotions in.

It doesn’t work.

“Can we go now?” Mingyu says, turning around and walking away from Wonwoo, from the teasing smile plastered on his face. Mingyu can feel his heartbeat even behind his ears.

He hears the other chuckle again, before he hears footsteps following him. When Wonwoo catches up and smiles at him, Mingyu gives him the side eye and walks even faster.

Mingyu doesn’t even have to look back to know that Wonwoo’s rolling his eyes at the younger’s behavior.

But Mingyu can’t help it okay? He’s good at being petty when he’s being teased.

When they get to the car, Wonwoo’s still smiling so big, and it’s taking everything for Mingyu to not beam at him as well. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” Wonwoo tilts his head.

Mingyu starts the car and backs up, silently regretting that he parked in such a rush, “Stop smiling like that.”

Wonwoo crosses his arms and sits back, “If I remember correctly you told me I should smile when you’re around.”

“Yeah but not at my expense.”

Mingyu finally gets out of the slot, driving smoothly down the path and out the university gates. He spares a glance at Wonwoo and sees the boy with his arm propped against the door, looking at him with pursed lips. “You allowed that too, actually.”

Mingyu groans, “Give me a break.”

Wonwoo laughs breathily, and Mingyu lets the sound fill the space of his car, nevermind the fact that the laugh was directed at him; at least it was _caused_ by him.

The drive gets quieter as Wonwoo settles down, and in the middle of it Mingyu gets bored with the silence, so he decides to try and lighten things up again.

He clears his throat, overtaking an old, beat up Camaro that resembles bumblebee, and takes a quick look at Wonwoo, who already has his eyes on him.

“So, Wonwoo,” Mingyu smirks, “You think I’d make a proper sugar daddy?”

Wonwoo’s eyes widen, gasping at Mingyu’s words and smacking his arm. It was Mingyu’s turn to laugh now, an offended expression on his face and a blush creeping up his neck.

Mingyu laughs until Wonwoo’s smacking him again and his arms feel sore from the impact.

His laugh must’ve been contagious though, because soon enough Wonwoo’s throwing his head back in laughter as well, his hand resting on Mingyu’s arm, a weight that he’s suddenly so aware of, causing him to look too long at Wonwoo and almost running a red light.

Mingyu immediately steps on the breaks, sending the both of them forward with their inertia. Mingyu hears Wonwoo groan and he looks at him apologetically, “At this rate, I’m sure we’re gonna crash.”

Wonwoo’s eyes are crescents, looking softly at Mingyu and somehow looking apologetic as well; as If he’s aware that he’s the cause of Mingyu’s distraction.

“I think we’ll be fine.”

It’s with Wonwoo’s gentle smile that Mingyu forgets about every worry that crossed his mind. He forgets about his father yelling at him for some mistake that he didn’t make, he forgets about banging his hand on the foot of his bedside table, he forgets about the number of zeroes deducted from his bank account.

Okay, maybe he doesn’t forget that, but the thing is… Mingyu doesn’t mind.

He’ll never ask explicitly, but he knows his money has been put to good use.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello i am SO sorry it took this long but like i said chapter 3 is the absolute longest chapter so i had to split it up into two parts so i don't get intimidated in writing it and so i can at least give you guys something after centuries!!! AND this chapter focuses more on how mingyu got to wonwoo and what factors affected wonwoo's choice so i apologize if it isn't so satisying to read ;;-;;
> 
> also, my best friend had quite a few strong words for me when she read this, so tell ne what u guys think!!! btw this is un-betaed so sorry for the little errors you may see uwu
> 
> anyway, i hope enjoy these 18k words of meanie!!! ily see you next update <3


	4. Moments volés

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mingyu is content. Wonwoo is learning. Things take a different turn.

**“i'm not gonna wait until**

**you're done pretending you don't need anyone"**

 

“You’re looking incredibly soft today.” Mingyu says when he gets out of the car.

He’s seen Wonwoo sitting outside the apartment and took note of what he was wearing while parking up front: a nude pink knit sweater over some tight fitting jeans and white sneakers, his hair down and brushing over the frames of his glasses.

Wonwoo looked cute. It’s seriously dangerous for Mingyu’s frail little heart.

“I know,” Wonwoo shrugs, standing up and looking down at his outfit, “It’s a boyfriend look.”

Mingyu snorts, “You’re really not letting that go aren’t you?” He says, opening the car door for Wonwoo and getting in as well from the other side, “Please don't tell me that you looked that up on the internet.”

Since the other day, when Wonwoo got the call from his mom (which he admitted was to confirm that they’d paid off more than half of their debt and only needed to settle the interests, Wonwoo almost tearing up again if it wasn’t for the waiter serving their food on time), Wonwoo’s been very insistent on holding up his end of the deal.

And by holding up his end of the deal, Wonwoo must mean surprising Mingyu with sudden uncharacteristic actions that throw him off guard and he blames it on those insanely unrealistic boyfriend standards on Google search.

So far, he’s given Mingyu about three heart attacks because of it.

One, when he brushed Mingyu’s hair from his face while they were walking in the hallways, surprising Mingyu into flinching away and almost slamming himself onto one of the lockers. Making everyone look at them and leaving them both a blushing mess as they walk their separate ways.

Two, when he suddenly wiped sauce off Mingyu’s lips, causing him to choke on the shrimp he was swallowing and having Wonwoo incessantly handing him a glass of water to clear his throat. He’s pretty sure that even the chefs wanted to get out of the kitchen and help the wildly coughing mess that was Mingyu.

Three, when he tried to hold Mingyu’s hand from the gear shift and almost sent them steering off the freeway because Mingyu panicked and pulled away in surprise; Wonwoo apologized profusely after that, telling Mingyu that he’ll avoid initiating any touches without telling him first, and Mingyu would be lying if he says that he wasn’t disappointed after hearing that.

So yeah, this is proof that though Mingyu may be an attention whore, he _cannot,_ for the life of him, stand any sort of affection once it’s handed to him since he’s _never_ had to deal with it, ever _._

It’s not even Wonwoo’s fault. Mingyu’s just a little messed up in the head.

“Then I won’t tell you.” Wonwoo says, confirming Mingyu’s suspicions and sitting back quietly.

Mingyu sighs, seeing Wonwoo pulling one of his sweater sleeves over his fingers, and wondering why he only does so to one arm, “You didn’t even bring a coat.”

“It would cover my watch.”

_Oh, so that’s why._

“You’ll get cold,” Mingyu shakes his head. Did Wonwoo really think that Mingyu would let him sacrifice his health just so he can see him wearing a wristwatch? Does he think he’s that shallow? (Not that Mingyu didn’t find it attractive, but _still_ ). “just wear mine.”

Wonwoo looks out the window, where a lone snowflake falls and immediately melts from the heat, “You don’t have to…”

“I want to.” Mingyu says with finality, taking note of the few stray flecks of snow that dot the windshield and making up his mind that he’s not letting Wonwoo walk around this weather without a coat, “I have another one hanging inside my locker, anyway. I’ll just use that.”

That’s right, Mingyu just leaves a hundred dollar coat inside his university locker, but it’s for emergencies and because he gets cold easily, sometimes needing more than two layers of clothing to keep himself warm. So there’s no reason to question it.

Besides, he’s confident that it won’t get stolen from him; he knows nobody would dare.

“Are you sure?” Wonwoo tilts his head, and Mingyu has to look straight ahead to keep himself from melting into a puddle at how soft the other boy is, “I mean, I don’t get cold that much, well, not really, but the whole purpose of this outfit would be defeated if I cover up and stuff, so…”

“Wonwoo, listen…” Mingyu cuts him off with a sigh. Wonwoo really can’t get it through his cute little head, can’t he? “I don’t need you to look like anything or act a certain way, just be yourself.”

Wonwoo stays silent, but Mingyu can feel the boy’s gaze on him like he’s under a magnifying glass, as if Wonwoo’s scrutinizing his expression and looking for a hint of bluff; he couldn’t have found it though, because he hums a noise of approval and lets the silence envelope the car again.

When the two of them step outside the car, Mingyu slips off his coat and walks towards a waiting Wonwoo, holding the thing open for the boy to slip his arms into the sleeves.

But Wonwoo only takes it from his hands and wears it by himself, and Mingyu watches him struggle with the belt length which, undeniably, is too long for his small waist. And when Wonwoo’s done he looks up at Mingyu through his glasses and Mingyu can only think of one thing: _I should make you wear my clothes more often._

Mingyu gulps.

He should know better than to think like that, because Wonwoo isn’t his and everything about all of their interactions are temporary and if he lets himself get carried away he will be hurt even more when the deal is over.

Mingyu can’t help it, though, his heart giving away when he takes a good look at how his coat swallows Wonwoo up, making him look smaller than he actually is and making Mingyu feel even more protective of him.

“How do I look?” Wonwoo asks.

Mingyu steps closer, fixing the collar and brushing Wonwoo’s shoulders off, watching his breath hitch when Mingyu answers, “Even more _boyfriend_ than before.”

 

“Don’t you have work to attend to, mister?” Jeonghan asks, sitting down across Mingyu and handing him his drink.

Mingyu’s sitting at the back of the café with his phone in his hands, waiting for Wonwoo’s shift to end so he can take him home.

Jeonghan managed to catch him in his hiding spot and walked over to him a few minutes later just to give him something he called his ‘greatest creation’.

Which looks a lot like over-glorified hot chocolate actually, but he can’t say that out loud because Jeonghan is sort of _terrifying_ and he’s not exactly at a safe distance.

“Don’t really feel like going to the company today.” Mingyu shrugs. He takes a sip of the drink Jeonghan just gave him and hums, “Hyung, this is good.”

“Of course it is… I made it myself.” Jeonghan smiles and puts his own drink down, “But Mingyu, you can’t just decide that you don’t feel like working and not show up. That’s one guaranteed way to anger your dad.”

“Frankly, I don’t care.” He does. “And I’m driving Wonwoo home tonight so it’s less of a hassle if I just wait for him here.”

Jeonghan scoffs, “You say ‘driving Wonwoo home tonight’ like you don’t do it every day.” He makes air quotations with his fingers and takes another sip of his drink, and Mingyu can see him hiding a smirk behind the cup, “What? Are you guys together now or something?”

Mingyu chuckles, his cheeks as warm as where his fingers are pressed against the cup, “You could say that.”

“So he’s your boyfriend?”

“Basically.” Mingyu says, noticing the funny look on Jeonghan’s face right after he says it, “What?”

“You’ll be distracting my employee from now on, won’t you?”

Mingyu lightens up, laughing at the accusation and giving Jeonghan one of his signature grins, “I’ll try to keep my charm at a minimum.”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes, and Mingyu has a hard time keeping the smug look off his face as he takes another drink of the beverage in his hands, “It’s so good, hyung!”

With a shake of his head, Jeonghan gets up, giving Mingyu that ‘I’m-watching-you’ movement and walking backwards into the shop.

Mingyu laughs at the older boy’s antics, until he sees him walking back out with a doughnut placed on a tray that he plops on Mingyu’s table, like a silent peace offering. “His shift ends in 30 minutes, I expect you to be at your best behavior the _entire_ time.”

Mingyu smirks, and gives a small salute, “Sure.”

 

“Why won’t you quit your job at the café?”

Mingyu ask out of nowhere as he drives the two of them away from the shop.

He has nothing against Wonwoo working there; he’s just genuinely curious as to why Wonwoo won’t give it up and spend the newfound freedom to do what he wants. But the question only makes Wonwoo turn his head at him with an odd look.

“Why should I?”

Mingyu speeds past the hostel where he saw Junhui giving Wonwoo a piggy back ride and his chest aches bitterly. But he pushes the memory out of his head with a huff and grins back at Wonwoo.

“Well, for one, you have access to a _lot_ of money now,” Mingyu glances at him, seeing Wonwoo shaking his head with a small quirk of his lips, “you don’t have to work anymore, plus, at least, once you do that you’d have more time for yourself.”

Wonwoo stays quiet, then he takes a deep breath, and Mingyu thinks he’s considering the offer, taking a stop at a red light and looking at the boy beside him.

“I don’t want to be completely dependent on you, Mingyu.” Wonwoo confesses, fiddling with his fingers, and Mingyu furrows his brows. Wonwoo continues, “I still want to have things that I worked for myself, things that I really own, you know?”

Mingyu hums, understanding where the boy is coming from but also being confused, the card can get him _anything_ he wants to own, it’s not like Mingyu’s going to take it back from him or something.

Wonwoo stops playing with his fingers, looking up at Mingyu and shrugging, the action so small and _cute_ it has Mingyu biting his lip, “Besides, I like working there. If I suddenly have too much time in my hands after working for so long, I wouldn’t know what to do with it.”

Mingyu scoffs, he knows what that is. It’s called being a workaholic and anyone could be a victim, especially someone like Wonwoo.

The light turns green and the car accelerates. Mingyu steals a quick glance at Wonwoo, who was still wearing his coat, and Mingyu’s heart does a happy little flip beneath his ribcage.

Though Mingyu doesn’t even have to think about Wonwoo wearing _his_ coat to notice that against the pale glow of the streetlights and the setting sun, Wonwoo looks the most ethereal Mingyu’s ever seen him.

That kind of sight doesn’t deserve to be overworked.

“Then find new things to spend time on, you know? Maybe you could even try horseback riding or something.” Mingyu says after a few beats of silence.

Wonwoo clicks his tongue, “I don’t really like going out that much...”

Mingyu snickers, “I figured.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Dunno,” Mingyu shrugs, “but you do look like a homebody.”

Wonwoo glances down at his outfit and pouts, Mingyu worries that the boy was judging his own appearance because of what he said, and he suddenly has this stupid urge to say _you don’t look bad, home isn’t a bad thing._

Luckily Wonwoo talks before Mingyu could embarrass himself.

“I guess I do, don’t I?” Wonwoo chuckles, and Mingyu’s notices that they were already near Wonwoo’s apartment so he slows the car down and pulls the hand brake when they’re at front.

“Well,” Mingyu grins, his eyes flicker to the coat before he brings them back up to Wonwoo’s face, “goodnight, Wonwoo.”

The boy glances down at himself again, “Oh!” Wonwoo gasps, “I’ll have to wash this before I return it to you, is it dry cleaning or–“

“Keep it, Won.”

Wonwoo stops talking, blinking back at Mingyu in disbelief, a  “Mingyu, I–“

“It looks better on you anyway.” Mingyu smirks at the pout on Wonwoo’s lips, “Think of it as a gift or something.”

“This is one expensive gift, then…” Wonwoo looks down, his eyes turning to the little _Gucci_ embroidered at the tip of the coat’s belt.

Mingyu chuckles, “There’s more where that came from so don’t get lightheaded yet.”

“Please don’t.”

“I’m just kidding, Wonwoo.” Mingyu shakes his head at him, giving him a closed lip smile, “See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo smiles shyly, and Mingyu feels dopey at how soft and unsure the boy’s voice is, “Goodnight, Mingyu.”

“Night.”

Wonwoo gets out of the car, and Mingyu watches him stuff his hand in the coat pocket and take his keys out, unlocking the door and stepping inside.

He doesn’t know why, but Wonwoo keeping his belongings in Mingyu’s stuff is, strangely _domestic,_ and the dopey look on Mingyu’s face doesn’t dissolve; if anything, it gets even dopier.

It’s only when he knows that the boy is safely inside his room with the soft light coming from the window does Mingyu drive off.

 

* * *

 

Yesterday was an experience for Wonwoo.

Never, in his 22 years of living, has he ever embraced anyone the way he did with Mingyu.

He didn’t know what came over him, perhaps it was the sheer joy of knowing that they were relieved of what had been burdening them for years, but he felt like hugging someone because of it.

And maybe Mingyu was just the one who was closest to him at that moment, or maybe the amount of gratitude he felt towards the boy overpowered any sense of shame he had in his body that he just _needed_ to get the message across, and giving him a bone-crushing hug while sobbing into his neck was the best method to do so.

Any of those two would work, honestly, though Wonwoo would tell you it’s the prior, due to his pride and all.

But all Wonwoo knows now is that he’s already taken something from Mingyu, and perhaps it’s time for him to give back, and he’s determined to give as much as he took.

 

The next morning, Wonwoo already separated ways with Mingyu by their college building’s entrance, the boy telling him that he needed to talk to administrations about one of his professors who was giving him a hard time.

He was walking towards his locker when he heard some girls giggle a few lockers away.

Wonwoo isn’t one to eavesdrop, but their voices were loud and they were pretty close and Wonwoo has good hearing, so he really couldn’t help it if he hears their conversation.

“Who was that smiling at you when we walked by the office?” One of the girls says, “He was pretty cute.”

Wonwoo hears a locker open, and he continues taking out his stuff as they continue talking.

“It was Kim Mingyu, I think,” Wonwoo freezes, his hand hovering over his accounting textbook, eyebrows meeting and ears hyperaware of the conversation now, “Not sure though. But he did look like a freshman.”

“Oh shit,” The other girl curses and Wonwoo hastily stuffs his things inside his bag, not wanting to hear any more of their stupid conversation, “it must feel nice to be noticed by the newest campus eye candy.”

 _Yeah,_ Wonwoo thinks, gritting his teeth, _but considering the fact that he’s gay, he–_

Wait…

Mingyu hasn’t said anything about being _gay_. He could be bi. He could like girls too.

Wonwoo’s thoughts halt in their tracks, and he doesn’t know where the frustration comes from but it bubbles up nonetheless.

It has him zipping his bag up haphazardly, cursing when the pull catches on the leather from his backpack’s waterproof layer.

Wonwoo struggles with the zipper, and when he finally unclasps it he hears the first girl giggle, “Shut up.”

The other girl speaks then, a teasing lilt to her voice, “You think you’ve got a chance?”

Wonwoo slams his locker shut, and he must’ve startled the girls because they stop talking.

Wonwoo spares a quick glance at their shocked faces, taking a deep breath before walking away, his face set into a cold expression.

Wonwoo’s eyebrow ticks as he speed walks toward his lecture hall and away from those girls, his thought’s circling around how Mingyu’s openly giving his attention to other people when he’s supposedly taken.

But that’s not the point, is it?

The point is that Wonwoo can’t believe he’s still doing such a lousy job at pretending to be Mingyu’s boyfriend; those girls didn’t even know that the boy’s in a relationship! How can he hold up his promise to be better at his job in pretending to be Mingyu’s boyfriend when people don’t even notice that they’re together? In their eyes, the two of them must be _best bros_ , good looking dudes combining the power of their visuals to get twice as many girls.

And Wonwoo doesn’t even like girls.

Tonguing the inside of his cheek, Wonwoo makes up his mind and pulls out his phone, opening a new tab in his browser and looking up something that could help him with his case.

He _really_ needs to do something about this.

 

Okay, maybe Wonwoo doesn’t have to do that much if he wants Mingyu to live through it.

The boy’s been so finicky with physical touch that even Wonwoo is surprised by it. Considering the fact that he was the one who proposed this arrangement, Wonwoo would’ve thought that it was fine for him to act, well, _boyfriend_ (and by boyfriend, Wonwoo means it by the standards of the internet, of course) towards him.

But no, absolutely not, Mingyu didn’t even notice the leather wristwatch he wore which was probably the last remaining expensive thing Wonwoo owns because he was so worried about him getting cold. It was a fucking _Rolex_.

Mingyu told him to just be himself, and though Wonwoo might argue that that isn’t boyfriend-like at all, he supposes he should just listen.

Maybe Mingyu’s ideal boyfriend is just a brick wall, who knows?

Definitely not Wonwoo.

 

"Your hair's black."

Wonwoo says as he freezes at the bottom of the stairs, taking a good look at the boy who just stepped out of his car and is walking around it to stand on the side closest to Wonwoo.

It’s Monday, it’s only been one day since Wonwoo last saw Mingyu, two since he gave him his coat, and the boy already looks like a completely different person now.

Wonwoo can’t say he doesn’t look good. Mingyu always looks _dashing_ , doesn’t he?

“Yeah,” Mingyu says, running a hand through his freshly dyed hair, “the only reason I dyed it gray was because I modeled for Minghao.”

Wonwoo tilts his head, hitching his bag up his shoulder again and trying to scour his mind for a person named Minghao as he gets inside the car. Mingyu’s never mentioned him.

“Minghao?” Wonwoo asks when Mingyu closes his door, making the boy look at him with raised eyebrows.

“Huh?” Mingyu says, not understanding what Wonwoo said, before his face lights up upon realizing what was asked, “Oh, he’s my best friend.”

Mingyu smiles briefly, and Wonwoo takes in the sight with confusion. Mingyu doesn’t even smile that much.

“Is he the one who owns the café?” Wonwoo asks.

Mingyu hums, “That’s exactly him.”

Wonwoo hums back, averting his eyes to the window with a thought in his mind, but he sees a small kitten outside, walking alone on the side walk, and he immediately feels his heart ache in worry for its safety, “Oh no.”

“What?” Mingyu asks suddenly, making Wonwoo snap his head back at him in surprise.

“Huh? Oh.” Wonwoo’s eyes widen at Mingyu, and with the distraction out of his head, the thought from earlier comes back, “I–uh, I said you two seem close.”

Mingyu nods his head, the grin on his face looking smug as ever, like he finds the conversation amusing.

“Yeah, you could say that.” Mingyu chuckles, before his expression tones down a notch, “even our fathers are friends.”

“You must’ve known each other for a long time, then?” Wonwoo asks, pulling at the pads of his fingers and trying to sound casual about the question, he catches himself at the right time though. Why the hell should he even _care_?

“Mhm, we’ve been through a lot,” Mingyu nods again with a pout on his face, but then it’s replaced with another one of his trademark smirks when he looks back at Wonwoo, “He’s also my ex.”

It takes a moment for Wonwoo to process what Mingyu said, blinking at him, his stomach feeling upset all of a sudden, “Really?”

“Yeah, my first boyfriend actually.”                                                                                                                                  

“Oh.” Wonwoo whispers, crossing his arms over his chest and looking straight ahead.

Wonwoo doesn’t understand the dull pinch at his heart at the information, there’s no way it could be what he thinks it is.

“How,” Wonwoo clears his throat, “how long did you date?”

“It wasn’t that serious so we didn’t last long,” Wonwoo sees Mingyu glance at him through his peripheral vision, the smirk on his face still annoyingly evident, “Why? Are you jealous?”

Wonwoo scoffs and furrows his brow, he doesn’t answer the question.

How presumptuous of Kim Mingyu to assume that he, Jeon Wonwoo, would be jealous of _any_ of his past lovers; they’re not even actually dating, all of this is just pretend, so why would he care? What reason is there for him to be jealous?

There is none.

Wonwoo’s frown deepens at the sound of Mingyu’s laughter.

Wonwoo isn’t jealous.

“I’m just kidding, Won.” Mingyu’s laughter has died down to small giggles, and he tries to touch Wonwoo’s shoulder in what must be a comforting gesture, but Wonwoo angles his body away at the last second.

Wonwoo may or may not be celebrating at the small pout that Mingyu makes at the action.

Mingyu purses his lips into a line, finally driving past the university gates, which is enough assurance that Wonwoo’s suffering in here will soon come to an end, “Look, there were so many things that didn’t work for us so we broke it off, like–“

Mingyu kills the engine in the midst of his explanation, and Wonwoo decides to cut it short.

“It’s fine sir,” Wonwoo smiles, unbuckling his seatbelt, “I don’t need to know.”

“Hey, don’t do that,” Mingyu whines, holding on to Wonwoo’s wrist before he could get out of the car, “you’re calling me ‘sir’ again.”

Wonwoo’s eyes flicker down to where Mingyu’s holding him, the grip tight and searing and Wonwoo tries to, but he can’t ignore the rush of blood in his ears.

Mingyu follows his line of sight and immediately lets him go, Wonwoo sees him gulp, “Uhm,” Mingyu says, keeping his head down, “I think we should walk together, yeah?”

Wonwoo clears his throat, “Sure.”

Wonwoo moves to open his door but Mingyu stops him again, “Wait,” Mingyu says, before rummaging around his bag and taking what seems to be a black beanie, handing it gently to Wonwoo, “wear this, it’s cold.”

“Oh… thanks, but what about you?”

“I really don’t want to cover my hair.”

Wonwoo scoffs, shaking his head at the boy.

Wonwoo knows Mingyu gets cold easily, he noticed it in the way the boy shivers the moment they step out of a place with an active heater; his cheeks and the tip of his nose will go pink, and his hands will immediately find its home in the pocket of his coat where he stores his hot packs.

They’re similar on that aspect, Wonwoo shivers even at the thought of chilly air touching his skin.

He can’t believe Mingyu’s braving the cold today just to show off his new hairstyle.

Wonwoo puts the beanie on, opening the car door, “Let’s pray you don’t get hypothermia.”

“I won’t.” Mingyu chuckles when he steps out of the car as well.

They walk side by side, and the frigid wind whips around and ruffles Mingyu’s hair, to which the other groans about, making Wonwoo giggle.

Mingyu suddenly looks at him, breaking the silence as he runs his fingers through his hair again, “what do you think, by the way?”

He licks his lips, and Wonwoo’s eyes flicker to the movement.

He takes another good look at Mingyu, and he can’t help but notice more than just his hair. His smooth skin, the little mole on his nose, his canine that pokes out as he grins at Wonwoo in anticipation, the glint in his eyes that Wonwoo boils down to excitement ( _nothing more,_ he thinks), and the red on the tips of his ears. Wonwoo notices all this before he gets to take a look at his hair, and it ties it all together.

Mingyu is handsome, there’s no denying it, and Wonwoo surely doesn’t do so, “You look good.”

Wonwoo’s cheeks color, and later he will say it was just because of the cold.

 

Wonwoo feels a light tap on his shoulder.

He groans, swatting the hand away and mumbling some unintelligible sentence, but the hand only shakes him even more.

“What?” Wonwoo groans, picking his head up and blinking blearily at who just woke him up, “couldn’t you give me five more minutes?”

“But we’re already here.”

Wonwoo jolts in surprise at the voice, looking around and realizing that he was in Mingyu’s car and they were now parked in front of his apartment, the streetlights emitting an orange glow inside the car that illuminates Mingyu’s skin as he laughs at Wonwoo.

“Hello sleepyhead,” Mingyu greets, “you’re home.”

Wonwoo groans, scratching his eyes under his glasses, “Sorry, I fell asleep.”

“It’s fine, I let you.” Mingyu watches him some more, and Wonwoo straightens up in his stare, “You seem pretty tired.”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo yawns, unbuckling his seatbelt, “Midterms are coming up.”

“Same,” Mingyu nods, “try to get some rest, won’t you?”

“Of course...” Wonwoo says, smiling at Mingyu, “Goodnight.”

Wonwoo was about to open the door, but Mingyu stopped him.

“Won, wait…” Wonwoo turns to look at the boy, and he sees him scratching at his wrist. “About earlier…” Mingyu clears his throat, “I didn’t mean to offend you, I was just joking.”

Wonwoo doesn’t take his eyes away from where Mingyu’s playing with his wristwatch, looping and un-looping it back into place; and when he looks back up at the boy, Mingyu avoids his gaze.

“The way I reacted was wrong too, yeah?” Wonwoo says, remembering how he rejected Mingyu’s touch earlier out of spite, “So… let’s just forget about it.”

Mingyu hums with a nod of his head, “Okay… See you tomorrow, Won.”

Wonwoo doesn’t like the pout that’s on Mingyu’s lips, so, with a burst of playfulness, he reaches over and pinches Mingyu’s cheek, “See you tomorrow, sulky.”

Mingyu whines, but before he could scold Wonwoo, he gets out of a car, giggling to himself.

 

“You think we could go running together sometime?” Mingyu asks while driving Wonwoo home.

Wonwoo turns his head at the boy because _what the hell is he thinking_?

Despite the length of Wonwoo’s legs, he knows that he’s an object with a great resistance to force, you can‘t just get him to move that easily.

Especially if it’s to go for a run.

Wonwoo huffs out a laugh, “I’d like to establish _right now_ that I am not going to subject myself to any amount of extreme physical exertion, with or without you.”

Mingyu snickers on the other side of the car, “So that’s a no, then?”

“Mhm.”

Mingyu seems to be deep in thought, and Wonwoo watches in amusement when his face lights up with some sort of Eureka moment, “What if I was on the other side of the campus and I was freezing without a coat?”

“Then you can wait for me to bring you one.” Wonwoo answers easily.

“What if you get thirsty and our water fountain isn’t working and the only way to get water is by the functional water fountains, _still_ on the other side of campus?”

“Then I’m gonna have to endure.”

“What about–“

“Mingyu,” Wonwoo chuckles at the boy’s persistence, “it’s not gonna happen.”

Said boy pouts, looking straight ahead and driving in silence.

He doesn’t talk to Wonwoo for the rest of the drive, and Wonwoo honestly finds it amusing, how the boy sulks whenever he doesn’t get what he wants.

It makes him seem normal somehow, but it also reminds Wonwoo that this boy has everything at the palm of his hands, that small disagreements like these are probably an inconvenience for him since he doesn’t normally get rejected.

It kinda makes Wonwoo feel powerful.

Wonwoo chuckles at the thought, and Mingyu squints at him.

When they greet each other goodnight, Wonwoo has a hard time keeping his laughter in, and Mingyu must notice it, because he pushes at his shoulder with a huff.

“Go!”

“See you tomorrow.” Wonwoo says, stepping out of the car.

Mingyu just grins, waving at him and driving away.

 

Something keeps on buzzing.

Wonwoo thinks it’s his head, courtesy of his sleep induced stupor, but then he realizes that his migraines don’t cause his head to vibrate continuously, and when his brain stops slumbering, his hands clamber over his pillow, realizing that it’s only his phone ringing like crazy.

The ringing stops before he could press the green button, and Mingyu’s name gets displayed beside the words _missed call._

He groans, planting his face into his pillow again. Why is Mingyu calling so early? It’s only 11am.

Okay, it’s not so early, but technically it’s still morning and Wonwoo was planning on sleeping in today.

Wonwoo’s head is still in his pillow when the phone buzzes in his hand one, two times. He waits for a third buzz, and when he doesn’t feel it after a few seconds he pulls his head up and checks the messages.

 

**from: mingyu**

_\-  Wonwoo_

_\- Let’s meet up by the convenience store near your place._

Wonwoo sighs, typing up a quick reply and pressing send.

 

**to: mingyu**

_\-  What?_

_\- It’s Sunday…._

He lays his head down on the pillow again, waiting for Mingyu’s reply.

He’s not in the mood to go anywhere today; he’s so tired from classes and his shift from the café yesterday.

Mingyu should know, he picked Wonwoo up last night, even let him sleep in the car while he drove.

 

**from: mingyu**

_\- I know._

_\- But it’s urgent. I need you here in 20 minutes please._

Wonwoo scans his eyes over the last message a couple of times before they widen.

If Mingyu’s saying ‘please’ then it _really_ must be urgent.

The convenience store is about a five minute walk from his house, which gives him fifteen minutes to get ready, and Wonwoo’s already springing out of his bed when the phone buzzes again, Wonwoo almost dives into the bed in his haste to check it.

 

**from: mingyu**

_\-  And dress warmly._

Wonwoo furrows his brows. What about today is so urgent and demands Wonwoo to arrive in twenty minutes wearing warm clothes? It doesn’t add up.

He’s starting to think Mingyu’s just messing with him.

But there’s no time to be skeptical, in case there really is an emergency which requires Wonwoo’s help. He doesn’t want to be held responsible for not responding to someone’s SOS.

So Wonwoo hurries in the shower, and is now standing in front of his closet  looking for the most functional yet attractive sweater in there.

Lately, Wonwoo’s been trying to dress better when in Mingyu’s company, which is technically every day now.

He feels a certain need to at least look decent somewhere at the back of his mind, always present, nagging at him whenever he reaches for something that he got from a thrift store because somehow, that time when Mingyu insulted his clothes just seems to keep replaying for him; making him question all over again: Why him? He’s not someone a corporate heir would want to be with.

He scratches at his head, taking a beige sweater and pulling it on, reaching for his watch and wearing it over his left wrist.

When he shuts his closet door, he sees his reflection in the mirror and feels… incredibly bland.

He puffs his cheeks and opens his closet again, this time taking out a white pullover with a red and blue collar lining when something catches his eye.

It was Mingyu’s coat.

He stares at it for a second before pulling it out too, hanging it on the closet door and taking off the sweater he’s wearing. He tosses it to the bed while hurriedly putting the new sweater on and tucking it into his pants.

He looks back at his side of the room. It was a mess, clothes were scattered across his bed and his sheets haven’t even been made. Normally, Wonwoo’s tidy with his space but that doesn’t matter right now, he’ll just take care of it later.

Grabbing his phone, he checks the time and sees that he only has five minutes left and he hasn’t even got shoes on yet, so he snatches the coat and sprints to the door, startling his roommate on the couch with the sound of their bedroom door slamming.

The boy widens his eyes and sits up, Wonwoo hears the TV volume being turned down as he crouches to tie his shoelaces.

“You’re going out…” Taehyung says incredulously, looking him up and down once he stands, as if studying his appearance –and Wonwoo gains a sudden consciousness of what he’s wearing. It’s not every day that a broke boy like him gets to hold and _wear_ a Gucci coat. “Got a date?”

Wonwoo bites his lip at the question. He had hoped that the boy would’ve gone out for a run or something today (but he figures he already has since it’s already 11pm), because it was already too much to have him present when Wonwoo goes out looking like new money, let alone have him ask _why_.

“Sorry Tae, but I’m in a hurry.” Wonwoo mumbles, pulling the front door open and stepping outside, “See you later!”

Taehyung didn’t even get to answer, because Wonwoo closes the door and sprints towards the stairs with the coat in his hands. Once downstairs, he hurriedly puts it on, almost tripping on it and even putting his arms in the wrong hole twice before getting it right.

He pulls his sleeve up, seeing that he only has three minutes to get to the store.

“Shit.” Wonwoo’s curses, his mind going over Mingyu’s message.

_It’s urgent._

As if God struck him, Wonwoo feels a surge of adrenalin go through him, pushing him forward and towards the direction of the store.

He runs.

Wonwoo doesn’t know how long it takes, but he runs until he can physically feel his lungs burn from the amount of air he’s breathing through them, and his eyes are frantic in searching for Mingyu even before he gets into the store; scanning the front for a tall boy with a disappointed frown etched on his face from waiting too long.

When Wonwoo pushes inside, he’s a gasping mess. He knows his hair is ruffled and that his coat is slightly rumpled by the wind, but still he walks around the store, looking above the aisles, knowing that Mingyu could easily be spotted over them with his height.

His heart rate speeds up again when he doesn’t see him.

What if Mingyu already left? What if he couldn’t wait for Wonwoo and he just went and got hurt because Wonwoo wasn’t there to accompany him? Even if he’s a huge dude, he seems like he wouldn’t fight anybody and is an easy target, and even though Wonwoo isn’t any better, there’s always strength in numbers, and Wonwoo’s head goes straight to the worst case scenarios where Mingyu gets beaten up all alone in an alley like what happened to him before, and Wonwoo can already feel his guilt eating him up as he keeps on looking. He didn’t get here on time, he…

“Wonwoo,”

He immediately freezes, walking backwards and seeing Mingyu crouched down in front of some chips with a shopping basket beside him that’s filled with drinks –Wonwoo lets out the long breath he’s been holding.

So that’s why he couldn’t see him.

Wonwoo tries to steady his breath, Mingyu’s okay. But his heartbeat still doesn’t come down from the running, and Mingyu’s looking at him like he just saw a monster; which it’s probably accurate, given how wasted Wonwoo feels right now.

“Why do you look so,” Mingyu trails off, standing up with a frown on his face as he walks toward Wonwoo, making him feel uneasy, “…haggard?”

Something in Wonwoo snaps.

He just ran half a kilometer away in fear for the boy’s life and the first thing he says is that Wonwoo looks _haggard_?

How dare him!

“I ran all the way here!” Wonwoo says, still waiting for his heartbeat to slow down, “It’s like I ran a marathon!”

He glares at Mingyu, and the boy’s eyes widen, holding his hand over his mouth. Wonwoo gets a terrible feeling that the boy’s smirking at him underneath it, and it makes something flare up in his chest.

“You said you never run?”

“You said it was urgent!” Wonwoo almost yells in Mingyu’s face, but he closes his eyes and takes a deep, calming breath, and when he opens his eyes again, Mingyu’s still there and still grinning. Wonwoo sort of hates him right now. “I thought you were dying.”

Mingyu snickers, and if Wonwoo wasn’t bound by an agreement he would’ve drop kicked him then and there for finding amusement in his suffering, but he just settles with narrowing his eyes at him.

“Would I have told you to go to a convenience store if I were dying?”

Wonwoo takes his glasses off with a groan, pressing a palm to his eye. Mingyu does have a point, but did Wonwoo think of that? No, especially not when Mingyu uses _please_ all of a sudden.

He puts the glasses back on and fixes his glare again, “Why did you even make me go here when you could’ve just picked me up?”

Mingyu shrugs, “I wanted to get some snacks before we went.”

He looks a bit less smug than earlier, maybe even a little sorry; it must’ve dawned upon him that what he did was pretty dumb, the shame finally catching up to him.

“We couldn’t have done that together?” Wonwoo raises a brow, “ _After_ you pick me up?”

There’s a pause in their conversation and an old lady passes by the isle they’re in, taking a long look at them from behind Mingyu.

The look on her face makes Wonwoo’s blood rush to his face in embarrassment because he _knows_ she heard their conversation. She shakes her head as she walks away and Wonwoo hears her mumbling something along the lines of _‘kids these days, fighting in public with their partners’_ , which makes him blush even more.

He fixes his gaze back to the boy in front of him, digesting the words that came from the lady’s mouth.

That’s the first time anyone’s ever acknowledged them as ‘partners’.

Wonwoo’s starting to think that maybe they only need to have public arguments to be recognized as boyfriends.

The silence stretches too long, and Mingyu doesn’t bother answering Wonwoo’s last question, staring expectantly at him instead. Wonwoo’s lips purse into a line before he clears his throat.

“Where are we even going?”

“It’s a secret.”

The smirk comes back and something tells Wonwoo that Mingyu’s still thinking about the prospect of him running, making him slit his eyes at the boy’s expression.

“I’m never doing that again, Kim Mingyu.”

Mingyu’s eyes crease in amusement, “Noted, hyung.”

“Did you just call me _hyung_?”

Mingyu shrugs, humming before picking up their basket and walking away, “Common courtesy.”

“You have that?” Wonwoo waits there for a few seconds, his mouth open in surprise and trying to see if his eyes are playing tricks on him, but Mingyu keeps walking towards the counter and Wonwoo shakes his head before catching up to him.

This makes Mingyu chuckle. “You’d be surprised.”

_I already am._

 

Once they walk out of the store and to Mingyu’s car, the boy puts all of the things he bought in the trunk and turns to give Wonwoo a good look.

Wonwoo suddenly finds his shoes the most appealing thing to look at.

“I didn’t get to comment on it earlier but,” Wonwoo hears the trunk being closed along with some rustling and figures that Mingyu probably crossed his arms over his chest, “You’re wearing my coat…”

“You did say I should dress warm.”  Wonwoo picks his head up and shrugs, crossing his arms as well, “This is probably the warmest coat I own.”

Mingyu bites his lip, and Wonwoo thinks he’s fighting back a smile but the thought is easily squished with a quirk of Mingyu’s eyebrow as he walks and opens the car door for Wonwoo, “You’re welcome.”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes, getting inside the car, “If you’re gonna be like that then I might as well return it.”

“I’m just kidding hyung.” Mingyu shakes his head.

Is this gonna be a thing now? Because Wonwoo’s never prepared for the honorifics that just keep rolling off Mingyu’s tongue.

Of course, he’s aware that he’s older than Mingyu since the boy _is_ a freshman, but he honestly didn’t expect that he’d be hearing the word _hyung_ from him anytime soon, it’s always Won or just plain Wonwoo. 

Weird thing is, Wonwoo doesn’t mind.

“What?”

Mingyu snaps him out of his thoughts. Wonwoo must’ve been spacing out, and he must’ve been staring too, because he sees Mingyu glancing at him with a worried look on his face as he drives.

“I was just thinking.” Wonwoo says, pushing his glasses back up his nose.

“About?”

“Stuff.”

“Stuff like what?”

Wonwoo chuckles, throwing his head back in slight frustration because _damn_ , Mingyu could be so nosy sometimes.

“Like where the hell you’re taking me, Kim.” Wonwoo says but without any bite; just settling for something that could answer his own questions.

“You’ll see.” Mingyu grins and speeds up, the sights outside turning more and more urban, the buildings getting taller, with more glass than concrete.

Wonwoo feels that Mingyu’s driving them to the heart of the city, which is understandable because there are more places to visit there, and Mingyu might just be up for some impromptu shopping spree in the city’s biggest malls.

But they pass all the well-known malls, so Wonwoo just stares outside in confusion, taking in every landmark and failing to come up with places they could be headed until the sea suddenly comes in view.

They’re still in the city, and Wonwoo doubts that they’ll be going to the beach in this freezing weather, so he’s left feeling even more lost than earlier.

After a few more minutes of driving, Wonwoo just gives up guessing and starts taking in the horizon, enjoying the view of the birds hovering over the water through the window.

That’s when Mingyu slows the car down, making Wonwoo look forward where cars are lined up to what looks like paypark entrance, a dome shaped building looming in front of them.

“Welcome to Ocean Park.” Wonwoo reads softly and turns to look at Mingyu, who has his arm leaning on the window, “you’re taking us to an aquarium?”

“If we’re going to be boyfriends then we might as well go on some dates, right?” Mingyu says, bringing his hand down from the window and tentatively scratching at his wrist, a nervous habit that Wonwoo doesn’t miss, “But, if you don’t like it just tell me so we can turn around right now and I don’t waste your–“

“Mingyu,” Wonwoo cuts him off, smiling widely at him before turning back towards the place, his heart thrumming happily beneath his shirt, “I love aquariums.”

He really does. He used to visit aquariums every summer when he was a kid and learned about the animals extensively with his father, and then he taught about them to his brother when he started tagging along. He knew about clownfish and lionfish and king crabs; heck, he even marveled at the jellyfish lightshow and showed his brother the box jellyfish exhibit just to scare him about how painful their stings were.

The sudden influx of memories has Wonwoo looking out at the window again, a heavy feeling settling in his chest. He shakes his head at his weakness, and he whispers, “I haven’t been to one in a long time.” 

Wonwoo leaves it at that, and Mingyu doesn’t say anything else anymore so it’s okay.

The silence isn’t uncomfortable, Wonwoo’s excitement bounces off him and Mingyu’s relief is evident in his face, like he was so worried that Wonwoo would detest his little _date_ idea. He finds it hilarious actually, Wonwoo’s basically under oath, so he can’t say no anyway.

They’re backing up into a parking space when Wonwoo realizes something.

“Why’d you buy all that food if you’re taking us to an aquarium?”

Mingyu pulls the handbrake and furrows his brows, “To have something we can eat inside?”

“Mingyu, no…” Wonwoo says, chuckling at the boy’s cluelessness. Did he really think that bringing food inside an aquarium is allowed?

“What do you mean no?” Mingyu says, genuinely looking confused and Wonwoo realizes that, yeah, this boy really doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing.

Wonwoo sighs, smacking palm to his forehead and leaning back into the head rest, already knowing that he’s gonna have to guide Mingyu through this because he _seems_ like a beginner.

“You can’t bring outside food in, they’ll confiscate it.”

“Well then what are we gonna eat?” Mingyu sounds so wronged when he says this, his brows meeting and his eyes flared like the fact that he can’t smuggle a few snacks inside an aquarium offended all of his ancestors.

Wonwoo’s observed this habit of Mingyu, getting really defensive when it comes to food, and it sort of makes him feel light; finding out things about Mingyu somehow always makes him feel light. Like a sedative or something.

“There are food stalls inside,” Wonwoo says, unbuckling his seatbelt and properly turning to face the younger, “If we brought our own food they wouldn’t get any profit. You know how this works, Mingyu, you’re a business major aren’t you?”

Mingyu stays silent, and Wonwoo notices the appearance of his pout before it recedes into a straight line.

“Capitalism.”

Wonwoo fights back a smile, nodding his head at the boy, “Capitalism.”

They get out of the car at the same time, and Wonwoo hugs the coat to himself when the cold wind blows at him, he sees Mingyu do the same, but he doesn’t comment on it. Instead he says, “It’s better if we leave them here and just eat them when we get outside later.”

“Sure,” Mingyu walks around the car and bumps shoulders with Wonwoo, there’s a smirk on his face and Wonwoo fears the moment Mingyu says what he wants to say, “I should’ve just picked you up earlier, huh?”

That’s it. Every time Mingyu opens his mouth there’s a tease hanging at the tip of his tongue just waiting to annoy Wonwoo, and it works because he groans, pinching at Mingyu who walks sideways to dodge it.

The two of them go at it until Mingyu cries in pain when Wonwoo finally catches his arm and successfully pinches at it, the latter apologizing quickly while the other assured him that it was fine. (He did whine quite loudly, though, so Wonwoo doubts it.)

When they’re finally lining up to get their tickets, Wonwoo decides to ask, “How come you didn’t know about that rule anyway?”

“Huh? Oh.” Mingyu takes his wallet out and holds it in his hand, looking a little lost as he looks up to check the ticket prices and takes out some money, “I haven’t been to one of these places before, well at least not since I was little, so I didn’t know.”

Wonwoo opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. How can a person as rich as Kim Mingyu not visit aquariums? When Wonwoo was young and fortunate, he would take every opportunity he gets to go to one. He kind of feels sorry for the boy; he’s missed out on something good.

But that doesn’t matter, they’re here now and Wonwoo’s adamant to doing a good job.

“Well, let’s make it fun for you then.”

 

The two of them get inside and walk together into the exhibits. Wonwoo getting in his head and explaining some of the things he knows to Mingyu, smiling enthusiastically while the younger just nods at him and obediently follows his lead.

It’s when they reach the bigger tanks does Wonwoo start to diffuse himself from Mingyu’s side, walking hurriedly to where his favorite fish are and pointing all of them to Mingyu.

“Look! Mingyu, look! It’s a stingray!” Wonwoo points at the tank and jogs toward it, he feels Mingyu follow and stop beside him as he observes the animal with an excited glint in his eyes, “Wah, that’s so cool.”

The way the stingray glides overhead fascinates Wonwoo. The grace and fluidity despite its size, acting like it’s lightweight even though it probably weighs as much (maybe even more) than Wonwoo; he envies it, to a certain extent, that it can be this beautiful and careless.

 _But not free,_ Wonwoo realizes. They’re still kept in enormous tanks without them knowing. Or maybe they do, he doesn’t know.

Wonwoo thinks it might be his only similarity to the creature, and it makes him sad. He had hoped their similarities would’ve been something better than being held in captivity; one in the present, the other from the past.

Wonwoo sighs and looks back down, seeing Mingyu on his phone. Disappointment bubbles up his chest and manifests itself into a frown on his face.

He watches Mingyu fumble with his phone for a couple more seconds before he speaks up, “If you went here just to go on your phone then you should’ve just let me sleep at home.”

“Oh,” Mingyu locks his phone and easily puts it in his pocket, his eyes wide and guilty, “I’m, it was important, Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo purses his lips, “It’s fine.”

Wonwoo sighs again, walking further into the exhibit and leaving Mingyu to trail behind him. The light suddenly breaks through from the dark tunnels and when Wonwoo looks to his right, he can see penguins loitering around and jumping into their pools.

Something beside him stirs and Wonwoo looks just in time to see Mingyu pulling out his phone and take photos of the creatures, his cheeks bunching up from how hard he’s pressing his lips together.

Wonwoo watches him, how his eyes are bright but his brows are furrowed, his teeth gnawing at him bottom lip like he’s trying to bite back a laugh, and Wonwoo comes to a conclusion that the boy’s trying to fight a smile.

Confused, he walks a little closer until they’re side by side again, “You know, for a person who smirks as much as he breathes, you don’t smile too often.”

Mingyu blinks down at him, putting his phone down and frowning, Wonwoo feels like he just lost.

“What?” Mingyu scoffs, “I do smile. A lot even.”

“Not a real one, though.” Wonwoo shrugs, taking his phone out and snapping a photo of the penguins too. He feels Mingyu’s gaze at the side of his face, “Why don’t you let loose and just, I don’t know, cheese?”

When Mingyu doesn’t say anything Wonwoo pockets his phone and reaches up to massage Mingyu’s cheeks against his will. Mingyu fighting his way out of the grasp, “Wonwoo, stop.”

“Why aren’t you smiling though?” Wonwoo gives up, letting Mingyu go and standing in front of him.

The boy just keeps staring at him, his expression hardening more and more by the second, and if Wonwoo felt like he lost earlier, then now he certainly knows that it’s a losing battle; if Mingyu’s face is anything to go by.

This can’t be any fun for Mingyu at all.

“You know you don’t smile too often either, don’t you?” Mingyu says, his voice soft but hard hitting with how deep it is, coupled with the frustrated glare he passes Wonwoo, “Why would you expect something from me when you can’t do it either?”

Wonwoo huffs, turning away and watching the penguins instead of the anger slowly building up in Mingyu’s stare.

Why do they always end up fighting each other? Can’t they have one interaction where they aren’t at each other’s throats?

“I haven’t got much to smile about.” Wonwoo whispers, hoping that Mingyu wouldn’t hear amidst the splashes of water and the chatter of people around them.

But he does, and the sharpness of his reply has Wonwoo furrowing his eyebrow and glaring into the penguin’s pool, “What makes you think that I do?”

Wonwoo doesn’t get it, how can Mingyu be so pissed at everything when he has it all? When Wonwoo had it all he was pretty fucking ecstatic to live every day of his life, so what was Mingyu’s problem?

Wonwoo shrugs, still not bothering to look at Mingyu, “You’re rich.”

“That’s not enough.” Mingyu scoffs, a bitter smile –not one that Wonwoo wanted to see– settling itself on his face.

“Ah.” Wonwoo nods.

He seriously cannot understand how someone like Mingyu can be so dissatisfied with himself. If Wonwoo was a prejudiced little bitch then he could call Mingyu ungrateful.

But he isn’t, so he keeps his mouth shut when Mingyu steps away from the glass of the tank and walks away from him to get to the next exhibit.

Wonwoo just keeps standing there for a few moments, waiting for his emotions simmer down and his head to clear up. And when it does his nose flares, regret seeping up his neck and into his head when he realizes what he had done. He seriously doesn’t make a very good boyfriend, does he?

Wonwoo curls his fingers in frustration, jogging to catch up with Mingyu, dodging and maneuvering his way past the crowd that started to slowly build up in the tunnels. Wonwoo elbows his way through them until he’s walking side by side with Mingyu again, the boy looking straight forward and not even flinching at his arrival.

It’s at the next when the next bouts of light start to show up that Wonwoo decides to speak up.

“Hey,” Wonwoo says, but Mingyu keeps on walking forward, not even sparing him a glance, “Listen, I honestly wanted to have a good time here, so I’m sorry. Let’s just enjoy, okay?”

Mingyu still doesn’t say anything, still walking until they’re front of another tank that Wonwoo can’t be bothered to look at. All he wants is to get Mingyu’s attention right now.

“Mingyu–”

“Polar bears,” Mingyu cuts him off, and Wonwoo furrows his brows before looking into the tank where, indeed, the polar bears were, “They’re probably my favorite animals.”

Wonwoo doesn’t know if this is Mingyu’s way of accepting his apology, but he figure’s if he’s talking to him then it must be okay now. Wonwoo’s not complaining about his lack of acknowledgement, he’s just glad that the little outburst was short-lived.

“I like stingrays.” Wonwoo tries to input on their favorite animal discussion, and he feels incredibly dumb right after because Mingyu didn’t ask him what his favorite animal is and they’ve already _passed_ the stingrays. Zero stingrays are present here.

Wonwoo’s still internally berating himself when Mingyu chuckles, “I know.”

“I like cats too,” Wonwoo’s mouth just keeps going, doesn’t it? “but they aren’t kept in places like these so I didn’t think it was worth mentioning.”

“Cats, huh?” Mingyu nods to himself, his eyes still glued to the animals in front of them, “Not very fond of them, but we could go to a cat café next time.”

Wonwoo found what Mingyu said distasteful because who the fuck doesn’t like cats? But it was quickly replaced with surprise because did Mingyu just ask him out on another date? And at a cat café at that.

“Really?”

“Sure, I’ll tell you when.”

Mingyu clucks his tongue and walks backwards, almost tripping at the elevated surface of the exhibit, positively giving Wonwoo a heart attack before he straightens up and brushes himself off.

Wonwoo thought he’s going to leave and make him follow behind again, but this time, he waits for Wonwoo by the tunnel’s threshold.

 

By the time they take their leave from the aquarium, it’s already 5:30pm, and Mingyu’s turning grumpy from only eating what he called, and Wonwoo quotes “undercooked pork skin drizzled in day old oil” together with “diluted sugar water”.

And Wonwoo can’t recall a single day in his life when he heard words as unappetizing as that and laughed as hard as he did then. Honestly, the food wasn’t even that bad, but the way Mingyu described it just takes the cake.

Wonwoo doesn’t think he can look at hotdogs the same ever again.

That’s why they’re driving to a place that serves what Mingyu’s been craving for since earlier this afternoon: steak.

The sun’s setting on the horizon, painting the sky and sea in hues of gold tinged with pink; and Wonwoo gets the prettiest view from the car window on Mingyu’s side. He keeps his eyes on it and tattoos the colors in his mind.

Wonwoo goes ahead and takes his phone to snap a few pictures, and he doesn’t miss the way Mingyu’s lips quirk up, probably giddy with the thought of being photographed by Wonwoo.

Joke’s on him, Wonwoo’s focus is on the sunset, and only his silhouette was captured.

When Wonwoo looks through the pictures he took, a smile unknowingly creeps on his face. There was the beautiful sunset, and then some polar bears, the lightshow from the jellyfish exhibition and Mingyu’s shadow, the penguins and Mingyu’s focused eyes as he took photos of them, Mingyu looking down his phone with a small pout on his lips, Mingyu–

Wait…

When did Wonwoo take this many pictures of Mingyu?

He gulps, scrolling some more only to find that almost every photo he took today had Mingyu in it; Mingyu’s shadow, Mingyu’s hand on the glass, Mingyu… eating a hotdog with a disgusted look on his face.

Fuck, Wonwoo doesn’t know why he even has those.

He moves to delete them, his fingers hovering over the trashcan button.

_Don’t people in relationships take photos of each other? Why should I delete it, then?_

He huffs, pressing the home button before locking his phone.

“Did you enjoy?” Mingyu suddenly asks, making Wonwoo look up at him from his phone in surprise.

“I should be the one asking you that,” Wonwoo says with a sniffle, “So, Mingyu, how did your first trip to the aquarium go?”

“You sound like a mom after a fieldtrip.” Mingyu chuckles, his thumb touching the inside of his wrist.

Wonwoo squints at him, but he decides to go along with the act, crossing his arms over his chest and adjusting the glasses on his face, “Well, then answer the question, _son_.”

And Mingyu laughs.

He fucking laughs.

Wonwoo’s taken aback for a second, Mingyu hasn’t laughed like this in front of him –something that isn’t a chuckle or a laugh meant to tease– and honestly, he doesn’t know why the boy holds back so much. He’s a got a nice laugh, kind of high-pitched and it makes his eyes look smaller, unexpected for such a built guy like him, but, that makes it all the more… endearing?

What is Wonwoo even saying?

The younger speaks up again when he recovers, some giggles still escaping his lips, “Aside from the fact that the food was trash, it was good, _mom_.”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes, “It wasn’t _that_ bad.”

“Hyung,” Mingyu chuckles, turning right at an intersection before sparing him another glance, “believe me, once we get to where we’re headed, you’ll realize what I’m saying.”

 

They get to the restaurant after a few more minutes of driving, and when Wonwoo walks into the place his jaw promptly drops.

Sure, he’s been to steak houses before, but not ones where the waiters wear suits and walk around holding silver platters, most of the places he’s been to as a kid were family steakhouses, his parents knowing the owners and patronizing their self-established businesses.

But this –this was something else.

Mingyu says his name to a receptionist and shows her a card (there are even membership cards. What the hell is this? A polo club?), and she escorts them to a booth near the window.

It’s getting darker, and Mingyu places their orders just as the streetlights outside turn on, Wonwoo watches snow fall slowly through the rays and dance like dust particles in the wind.

“It’s snowing.” Wonwoo whispers.

Mingyu hands the menu back and averts his eyes to the window, smiling softly at the sight.

No amount of temperature drop from any snowstorm can rival the way everything seems to have frozen in place upon Wonwoo seeing Mingyu’s smile.

It’s the first time Wonwoo’s seen Mingyu look ever so softly at something, the rough edges of his signature smirk forgotten with the gentle lift of his lips.

He stares and wonders if this is the result of his words from earlier finally coming through the boy.

He keeps his eyes on him until Mingyu’s turning his head and smiling at him instead, the closed lip smile he sends making Wonwoo’s breath hitch.  

Wonwoo’s always known that Mingyu was attractive, always known that he wasn’t immune to his charm the moment he met him. But it’s here, with the sight of his smile, does Wonwoo realize that Mingyu is… _shit_ , he’s really fucking pretty.

Wonwoo wants to say something but the words catch at his throat. It has him trying to swallow down what he’s feeling because it isn’t _right_ and by then Wonwoo knows that the snow is already forgotten.

Maybe today is the day for a _lot_ of firsts. But it isn’t the first time Mingyu’s ever caught him speechless.

“Good thing you’re wearing the coat I gave you.”

Wonwoo looks down at the table, remembering where the conversation was and getting his head out of his ass long enough to blanch, “Stop mentioning it.”

He hears Mingyu chuckle and he bites his lip, willing his head and heart to settle down.

Looking for something to distract him, Wonwoo lifts his head up to take a look around. The place wasn’t packed with people; in fact, it was almost empty save for the few tables with families seated on them and corporate looking men having a discussion on the far side of the restaurant.

Wonwoo sees the food being served by the waiters and his eyes widen, noticing that although the plating and dish itself looked palatable, the cut was small and rather _stingy_.

Would Mingyu even be satisfied with that?

Mingyu must’ve read the look on his face, because he leans over and starts whispering, “Most of the people around us get smaller portions because everything else is too expensive,” Mingyu winks, and Wonwoo’s heart stutters, “Don’t worry, we won’t be walking out here with our stomachs still rumbling, we can afford the bigger ones.”

Normally, Wonwoo would be offended with Mingyu’s casual utterance of financial stability in his presence, but he really can’t seem to activate that side of him right now because his stupid fucking heart keeps hammering wildly in his chest.

Stupid Mingyu and his stupid smile and his stupid fucking winks, who does he think he is?

Maybe Wonwoo should’ve just kept on hating him.

Because whatever is happening to him right now isn’t any better, if anything, it’s detrimental to his sanity.

It has him leaning back into his seat and clearing his throat if only to ease some of his nerves.

A waiter saves his life, approaching their table and nodding politely at the both of them, before facing Mingyu and giving him a small smile, “Sir, we apologize but your order may take ten more minutes before it is served, would that be okay?”

Mingyu’s face hardens, pulling his sleeve down and taking a look at his watch

You know that thing Wonwoo observed about Mingyu and his food? Yeah, it’s manifesting itself right now, and Wonwoo doesn’t like watching Mingyu’s face transform from pleasant to disgruntled in a matter of seconds, nor does he like what usually comes after.

Which is letting his belligerent rich-boy mouth run without thinking about it first.

“That would be fine,” Wonwoo answers for him, “thank you for informing us.”

“Wonwoo.” Mingyu whisper yells, the waiter having already turned his back on them and walking away.

“What?”

“Why did you do that?”

Wonwoo pushes his glasses up his nose, “Do what?”

“Tell him it’s okay!” Mingyu says through his teeth, and Wonwoo finds it almost pleasurable to see him seething over the fact that his food was delayed for a couple of minutes. “It’s not okay, we pay them to do their job and–“

“And surely ten minutes isn’t too long, is it?” Wonwoo cuts him off, watching in amusement as Mingyu opens and closes his mouth before he gives up and huffs in his seat. 

Mingyu’s really a breed of his own, isn’t he? It’s just food. Wonwoo hasn’t even had a decent meal since a few weeks ago but you don’t see him complaining.

Wonwoo shakes his head, fighting back a smile at the pout on Mingyu’s fac.

But ten minutes after calming him down, their food still hasn’t arrived, and Wonwoo takes a subtle peek at his watch every few seconds, worrying himself with the obvious shift in Mingyu’s mood as he taps his fingers on the table.

Exactly three minutes later the kitchen door opens and the same waiter from earlier walks towards their table, placing a plate in front of Wonwoo first before doing the same to Mingyu, flashing the both of them a smile.

“Took you long enough.” Mingyu says when his food gets placed in front of him. The waiter’s smile immediately falls, and Wonwoo watches with wide eyes as Mingyu addresses the man with a cold look.

“Your ten minutes has been long overdue,” Mingyu says, his voice rising in volume and making Wonwoo sit tall in worry, “Do you pride yourself in this subpar service? You charge so much money from us and we get this in return?”

“I’m sorry, sir. We tried to the best of our abilities to prepare your order on time, but–“

“Are you trying to reason with me?” Mingyu cuts him off, his eyes turning to slits as he stares the man down. The waiter looks taken aback, hugging the platter to his chest, and Wonwoo holds his breath, waiting for either the man to talk back or Mingyu to blow up.

But the man doesn’t say anything, and Mingyu’s nose flares, “Please go before I have you fired!”

Even Wonwoo flinches from the volume of Mingyu’s voice, and he averts his gaze to the waiter who has his eyes downcast and muttering apologies, the man looking tired of having to deal with people like this. People like _Mingyu._

Wonwoo has trouble formulating words, and when he looks around their table he sees more than three pairs of eyes on them, most of which look away when he catches their gaze, feeling incredibly sorry that they had to witness that.

“Mingyu.” He whispers, getting the attention of the younger, who still has a frown on his face, “he– he didn’t deserve that.”

“What?” Mingyu says indignantly, “the food arrived late, the establishment shouldn’t have a five star rating for nothing. It has to lear–“

“Yeah but you didn’t have to yell at him. He wasn’t the one who cooked the food too slow, you know?”

“Should I go to the kitchen and yell at the chef, then? I can do just that.”

Mingyu pushes his seat back, the wood making an ugly sound against the tiles. But before he could even stand, Wonwoo has a hand clutched on his forearm.

“You have to learn that your time isn’t the only thing that matters, Mingyu.”

They stare at each other, Mingyu’s heated gaze piercing through Wonwoo’s semi-seated form. But Wonwoo doesn’t back down, returning the weight of the look full force until Mingyu softens up, making Wonwoo close his eyes and sigh.

“Sit down, it’s bad to keep food waiting.” He says after sitting down, staring up at Mingyu expectantly until he does the same.

He doesn’t acknowledge the look Mingyu keeps on giving him, and doesn’t talk until Mingyu’s digging into the meat on his plate.

“You should say sorry, you know?” Wonwoo says, making Mingyu stop in his tracks to glare at him again.

“What?” He says, “Why should– Wonwoo, I don’t need to say sorry.”

“You caused a scene _and_ you embarrassed a man who was only doing his job. The least you could do is apologize, really.”

Mingyu scoffs, “I’ll just leave a big tip.

“Mingyu,” Wonwoo frowns, “would it kill you to apologize for once?”

Wonwoo sees Mingyu abruptly close his mouth after he says this and wonders if he shouldn’t have said it, but instead of taking it back he keeps his mouth shut and starts slicing his food.

Silence falls upon the two of them, and Wonwoo can’t even focus on how good the steak tastes because he’s too bothered with how to get through Mingyu’s head.

Why does he want to, anyway? It’s not like it’s his job to be Mingyu’s etiquette teacher.

“Don’t you remember the time someone did _that_ to me?” Wonwoo tries, and it breaks the silence as much as it causes it because suddenly, Mingyu’s freezing up again.

He doesn’t know if Mingyu would care, and he wouldn’t mind if the boy doesn’t, but he believes the occurrence that happened in the past was a worthy analogy; one that even Mingyu could understand.

“That was different.”

Wonwoo shakes his head, popping a slice of meat in his mouth, “If you say so.”

Mingyu frowns down at his plate, chewing slowly and seemingly having a difficult internal battle with himself.

Wonwoo keeps eating and Mingyu keeps sighing every few seconds, none of them say a word.

 

Mingyu doesn’t even talk when he asks for the bill, only making a hand gesture at a waiter that passes by.

It’s obvious that the boy won’t apologize when he won’t even dare talk. Wonwoo fixes his glasses up his nose in frustration.

The waiter that served them earlier wasn’t even the one who handed the bill, which was expected, considering the fact that Mingyu just blew up on him for being late by _three minutes._

Wonwoo stares at Mingyu, his brow furrowing when the boy doesn’t even take a look at the receipt and only pinches his card between the magnets of the bill holder; but his brow furrows deeper when Mingyu doesn’t let go of the bill as he hands it over.

_He said he could afford it._

“May I request the waiter from earlier to approach us?” Mingyu says, giving the man a closed lipped smile and Wonwoo a headache.

_What the hell is he doing?_

The waiter only nods after taking the bill from Mingyu. He walks off into the staff area and Wonwoo watches the waiter from earlier come out again with a timid smile on his face a few minutes later.

The man approaches their table and hands back Mingyu’s card, “How can I help you, sir?”

“I am sorry for the way I acted earlier.”

Wonwoo’s eyes widen along with the waiter’s, startled at the younger’s sudden utterance of an apology.

“It–“ The man looks to Wonwoo for affirmation, but even he can’t comprehend what just happened, so he just nods dumbly at the man, “it wasn’t taken to heart, sir.”

Mingyu is quiet for a moment, before his eyes flicker to Wonwoo and he gulps, “Okay.”

Wonwoo must look _so_ dumbfounded by now, blinking at Mingyu like an idiot while the boy won’t even look at him, scratching at his wrist and looking everywhere but him.

When Wonwoo looks back at the waiter, the man’s holding back a smile, and he bows at Wonwoo before doing the same to Mingyu, “Have a safe trip home.”

Mingyu immediately stands up, walking ahead and zooming past Wonwoo with his head down.

And maybe it’s just his imagination, but Wonwoo saw red dusted over the boy’s cheeks.

He stands up as well, bowing back at the waiter before catching up to Mingyu, the boy almost jumping when his eyes land on him. The two of them walk towards the exit and Wonwoo keeps his pace up with Mingyu’s, who’s apparently in a rush. But he stops by the door and looks up to the sky, making Wonwoo look up as well.

The snow’s still falling, slowly, in a thousand different places all at once, and Wonwoo wonders how that must feel. He scrunches his nose at the thought.

“I’m sorry, hyung.” Mingyu mumbles, stepping past the threshold.

Wonwoo freezes, lowering his eyes from gazing at the sky to look at Mingyu’s retreating figure, wondering if he heard it right. But if the way Mingyu rushed past him to walk away right after he said it is anything to go by, then Wonwoo _must have_.

A blush rises to his cheeks, and he licks his lip which is fighting back a smile, shaking his head at the other’s shyness before quickly following him.

Today really is the day for a lot of firsts.

 

* * *

 

Despite being unable to bring the food he so diligently picked, taking Wonwoo to an aquarium turned out to be a great idea.

Seeing the older boy go giddy while talking about the animals makes every cent Mingyu paid for both of their tickets worth it, just watching his already bright eyes go brighter every time he sees another breed of fish makes Mingyu want to take him here and just watch him every day.

But, of course, Mingyu pretends to be watching the animals instead.

“Look! Mingyu, look! It’s a stingray!” Wonwoo says, his voice getting muffled when he walks further into the exhibit, and Mingyu has a hard time holding back a smile as he follows the awestruck boy. “Wah, that’s so cool.”

Wonwoo stops and stares at the animal, his eyes glued to the spectacle before him to not fall back on its movements and the blue light from the tanks reflecting onto his skin.

He absolutely takes his time to admire the fish. It must be his favorite.

Mingyu takes the opportunity to pull out his phone and snap a few pictures of Wonwoo’s excitement, doing it discreetly, as if he’s just texting.

The fishes shadow casts an odd darkness to some photos when Mingyu checks them, but most of them turned out fine.

One photo stands out though. The soft blue rays of light visible as it hits Wonwoo and bathes him in cerulean, the boy looking up at the stingray in glee with a lovely smile on his face.

Stunned, Mingyu stares at the photo for a good three seconds.

Then, against his better judgment, he turns it to his phone wallpaper.

“If you went here just to go on your phone then you should’ve just let me sleep at home.”

Mingyu breaks out of his stupor to look up at Wonwoo, who now has a disapproving look on his face; Mingyu feels like he’s been caught red-handed.

“Oh.” Mingyu’s eyes widen, immediately locking his phone protectively, “It was important, Wonwoo.” _Very important._

Wonwoo purses his lips at him and the next few seconds of silence is torture for Mingyu.

“It’s fine.”

Wonwoo turns to walk away and Mingyu closes his eyes while letting out the breath he didn’t know he was holding, following Wonwoo again like a lost puppy.

 

“Here,” Wonwoo hands Mingyu something that he hasn’t seen in a while, since his diet mostly consists of fresh everything and absolutely no preservatives, “I’ll just buy you another one if you like it.”

Mingyu silently complained about his stomach growling a few minutes back, but it turns out Wonwoo is an active listener and heard him loud and clear, immediately dragging him to an area where numerous stalls sell fast food and sweets.

Mingyu scrunches his face in distaste, careful not to show it to Wonwoo as to not upset him because he _did_ buy them himself and even told Mingyu that it’s his best bet in this place.

But there’s a reason he hasn’t eaten a hotdog in so long; he doesn’t like them, especially when they look like this.

Holy shit. It fucking looks recycled.

Taking a bite at the horrid thing proves to be the most difficult task Mingyu has ever done within this place, and while Wonwoo has a good fucking time savoring his food, Mingyu feels like he’s about to throw up.

“Hyung,” Mingyu calls out, making Wonwoo look up at him with his cheeks bunching up on each side. He’s adorable, but Mingyu honestly can’t comprehend how he can stand eating that, “next time, don’t buy us undercooked pork skin drizzled in day old oil. Let’s just eat outside.”

Wonwoo’s eyes widen and he brings his hand to his lips. Mingyu watches him scramble for his drink and take a few large gulps, gasping for air and looking at Mingyu like he just slapped the entire hotdog off his hand.

“Are you okay?” Mingyu furrows his brow.

“I’m fine. Oh my god, what did you just call it?”

“Undercooked pork skin drizzled in day old oil?” Mingyu says, taking a sip of his own drink. “Oh, and no diluted sugar water either please.”

Wonwoo blinks, his eyes flittering from Mingyu to his cup of iced tea, then his shoulders start shaking and his lips curl up together with his deep, rumbling laughter. Wonwoo starts holding his belly and he’s laughing so hard Mingyu can see tears in his eyes; all Mingyu can do is stare as his nose scrunches and he throws his head back and Mingyu decides that maybe this isn’t so bad after all.

 

It could’ve gone better though.

Maybe if Mingyu knew how to keep his temper in check they wouldn’t have to sit in silence until they finish eating what’s on their plates; maybe they could even talk about how much they enjoyed today because Mingyu’s quite sure that he enjoyed it very much.

But no, Mingyu is an idiot and he probably deserves this, this awkward air that settled in between them, because he is a hypocrite who got mad at the person who yelled at Wonwoo but yelled at somebody else in front of Wonwoo anyway.

He can feel the guilt eating him up faster than he can eat his meal. And he finished his meal pretty quickly.

Mingyu looks at Wonwoo when he’s done, and the older boy doesn’t meet his gaze at all.

Mingyu decides that enough is enough. If apologizing to the waiter will get Wonwoo to look at him again, then apologize he will.

And Wonwoo certainly doesn’t pull his eyes off him when the waiter comes back with his card in hand, Mingyu can feel the gaze like an open flame up his neck.

“How can I help you, sir?” The waiter asks, and from his peripheral vision, Mingyu can see Wonwoo’s expectant expression.

See, Mingyu wasn’t lying when he said he never says sorry, because his father taught him to be unapologetic for the things he thought he did right. And Mingyu can’t believe it, but perhaps it only takes a Jeon Wonwoo to make Mingyu realize that his father doesn’t make sense to him half of the time and that the man has a questionable list of things that are right for him, so why should he still follow that?

So with that thought in mind, Mingyu manages to say, “I am sorry for the way I acted earlier.”

And it’s not some life changing event for anybody else in the room, but for Mingyu it feels like a shift in religion, like he could say sorry to everyone in here and feel good about it because he hasn’t said sorry to anybody else but Minghao and Seungcheol for _years._

It makes him feel lightheaded.

“It–“ The waiter looks to Wonwoo, and yeah, Mingyu can relate to that, he also wants to look to the older to see if he’s doing this right, “it wasn’t taken to heart, sir.”

“Okay.” Mingyu risks a glance at Wonwoo, seeing the boy blinking at him, obviously confused on what he’s going for.

_Yeah. I am too._

Mingyu finds himself getting embarrassed, he feels fake, like there’s a lapse in his action that’s so glaringly apparent and Wonwoo could just point it out at any moment.

He can’t look at Wonwoo anymore, and Mingyu just wants the waiter to say something else so he can finally leave.

Mingyu keeps scratching at his wrist until red lines starts to rise on his skin but he doesn’t care, it always happens.

The waiter finally bows and Mingyu can feel relief flowing through him, knowing that he can finally leave without looking disrespectful when the man says, “Have a safe trip home.”

Mingyu stands immediately, and only when he’s halfway through the door does he remember that leaving without bowing back is considered disrespectful as well.

He groans, what other fuck up does he have to commit tonight?

Someone walks up to him and Mingyu startles when he sees that it’s Wonwoo. He’s still embarrassed, and he can almost feel Wonwoo’s disappointment radiate towards him in waves, _how can someone so rich have zero manners?_

Mingyu frowns at his thoughts, stopping just outside the door to look up to the sky, it’s still snowing. Just earlier they were talking about it and he didn’t even get to comment on how pretty it was.

He didn’t do anything right today. He had to blow up at Wonwoo for asking him to smile when he literally did the same a few weeks ago, had to be so picky at his food and drag Wonwoo to an expensive restaurant just to do some other dumb shit that embarrassed them both.

He feels like he ruined Wonwoo’s night.

And since Mingyu’s already made his first apology, he gives it to the person who probably deserves it the most right now.

“I’m sorry, hyung.”

Mingyu can feel blood rush to his cheek the moment he says it, and he can’t stand Wonwoo looking at him like _that_ , so he turns and walks away before he could say anything else.

 

When he drives Wonwoo home that night, Mingyu moves to apologize again but Wonwoo beats him to it.

“What you did,” Wonwoo clears his throat, “back at the restaurant, uhm, I think it was really cool.”

Mingyu can only stare back at him in disbelief, _is he joking?_

“I mean, obviously not the part where you yelled at him, but when you apologized, uh, I think you really made him feel better.” Wonwoo doesn’t look at him when he says this, and red is already forming at his neck, “At least he won’t go around all night blaming himself anymore, you know? Ah, what am I saying…”

Mingyu opens his mouth to say something, but Wonwoo cuts him off again, “I guess I just wanted to say you did the right thing there.”

Wonwoo smiles softly, and the way Mingyu’s pupils dilate is almost palpable at this point. He doesn’t know why, but Wonwoo acknowledging his actions is somehow, fulfilling? Finally he did something right.

Mingyu opens his mouth, but the only thing that comes out is a small, “Thank you.”

Wonwoo chuckles, ruffling his hair before unbuckling his seatbelt, “It wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Mingyu wants to deny, wants to tell Wonwoo that it was _very_ hard, but how could he? The smile on the boy’s face looked almost _proud._

So Mingyu shakes his head, “No.”

A small smile, “Good.” Another pat on the head, “I had fun today. Goodnight, Mingyu.”

“Me too.” Mingyu smiles back at him. “Good night hyung.”

“Drive safe.” Wonwoo gives him one last smile, getting out of the car and waving by the door.

Not for the first time, Mingyu drives away with a smile on his face.

 

Two more weeks into their arrangement and Mingyu has learned more than a couple of things about Wonwoo. Their level of comfort transcending being able to sit in a car together for more than twenty minutes to laughing together and sharing bits and pieces of themselves with each other.

Mingyu’s caught himself scrunching his nose enough times to confirm this.

And the things Mingyu’s learned about Wonwoo are so random, most of which were offhandedly mentioned by the older boy while he shares little anecdotes about his life.

He’s learned where he got the small scar near his eye, how much Wonwoo loves playing games and reading books, how hard math is for him and how he copes with it by watching YouTube videos with simplified explanations.

Mingyu loves his stories, every single one of them.

But Wonwoo always holds back, always pauses, when a certain topic is brought up.

He still doesn’t like talking about his past.

How he got to where he is now, how he ended up saying yes to Mingyu; he still doesn’t answer the question, _why?_

And Mingyu, well, he can’t bring himself to force Wonwoo to tell him anything about it anymore, he knows Wonwoo will come around in his own time, just like how he allowed Mingyu to know about the little details in his life, the ones he was willing to have him hear.

But some things just aren’t as pleasing to the ears as the others.

“You know Junhui, right?”

Mingyu perks up right away at the question, they’re walking towards their college building and he almost drops the cup of hot Americano they bought before driving here.

“Yeah, why?” Mingyu tries to keep his tone casual. Of course he knows Junhui. How could he not? They were basically attached by the hip when Mingyu met Wonwoo.

“It’s just,” Wonwoo hugs his coat closer to his body, “he’s been missing for weeks, I don’t know where to look and I can’t contact him.”

“Weeks? Is he even still enrolled?”

“I don’t know,” Wonwoo sighs, “I was thinking that maybe he went to an exchange student program? But I didn’t notice anyone new in our lectures.” Wonwoo snuffles, fixing his glasses over his nose, “But then again, maybe I’m just not that observant. And he would’ve told me, right? Why wouldn’t he…”

Wonwoo’s voice is so sad, and Mingyu frowns at the thought that something as simple as Wen Junhui could cause him to do that.

“Maybe he just, I don’t know, didn’t really want to tell you anything…”

“He’s my best friend,” Wonwoo says, full of confidence, “we tell each other everything. Why would it be any different now?”

“He isn’t from around here, is he?”

“No.”

“Then it’s probably some family trouble, you know how it is when you’re far from home.”

Wonwoo’s lips purse at that, like what Mingyu said struck a nerve, and he fixes his glasses again.

“I know.”

“So you just have to understand him, I guess. He’ll come back eventually.”

“And what if he doesn’t?”

 _Would it feel so wrong if he doesn’t?_ Mingyu wanted to say, wanted to know why the hell Wonwoo was so adamant to finding this guy when Mingyu is _right here_.

“Don’t speak it into reality, hyung.” Mingyu says, taking a sip of his coffee and trying to get himself out of this conversation.

“I’m going to have to find him on my own.”

“What if he doesn’t want to be found?” Mingyu frowns, walking faster until he realizes that Wonwoo’s fallen silent beside him, “I mean, just let things run at their own pace, right? Just wait for him to come back.”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo shakes his head, “yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry, let’s not talk about this anymore.”

Mingyu bites his lip, he didn’t mean to be so rude, he was just, well, he was _jealous_ and he couldn’t keep hearing Wonwoo talk about Junhui with so much importance. He didn’t realize that his jealousy was slowly turning to hostility and he projected that hostility to Wonwoo.

He feels like shit.

Slowing down his pace, Mingyu nudges Wonwoo with his shoulder and sends him an apologetic look, “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Wonwoo smiles.

Somehow his smile doesn’t reach his eyes and that makes Mingyu feel even worse.

 

Mingyu gets home to his Mac pinging with an incoming message.

He takes a shower and changes into his pajamas before moving to check it, and when he does a smile makes its way to his face

 

**from: Choi Seungcheol**

_\-  hello asshole_

_\- did you know that the it’s illegal to take photos with the Eiffel tower without getting some sort of permission first because now I do and I had to learn it the hard way, you fucker : )_

_\- video chat pls :’’(_

**to: Choi Seungcheol**

_\-  yeah I did, but you didn’t ask lmao at least you know now_

_\- sure, go ahead_

Mingyu only has to wait a couple of seconds before his laptop starts ringing; he clicks the green button and is immediately greeted by a gummy smile.

 _“What’s up, what’s up!”_ Seungcheol exclaims, fist pumping like a grandpa trying to be cool.

Mingyu chuckles, shaking his head at the elder’s antics, “How do you have this much energy at this time of day?”

_“And this time of day is? It’s only 2pm!”_

“Ah, sorry, forgot about our time difference.” Mingyu says, yawning to make his point, “It’s past ten here, I was already getting ready for bed.”

 _“I can see that.”_ Seungcheol chuckles, eyeing his pajamas and shaking his head, “ _didn’t expect me to call?”_

“No,” Mingyu scoffs, “had I known you any less I would’ve thought you missed me but I know you just wanna kick my ass for not giving you the do’s and don’ts of Paris.”

 _“Nah,”_ Seungcheol chuckles, _“that happened yesterday, I’m over it; just wanted to check up on you.”_

Mingyu raises a brow, “Check up on me or check up on Jihoon hyung?”

 _“Why not both?”_ Seungcheol says with a chuckle, _“But seriously, how are you? The last time I called you were bribing the school, how did that go?”_

Mingyu scrubs his hands over his face, muffling the sound of his laughter, and when he brings them down to cradle his chin there’s a small smile lingering on his lips which makes Seungcheol tilt his head at him.

“It turned out great actually,” Mingyu pauses, “turned out better than expected.”

_“Oh? What was it for again?”_

“I just,” Mingyu ponders if he should tell Seungcheol what happened, but he figures that this dude is his best friend; he deserves to know even just a tiny bit of what’s happening, “I needed to get to know someone.”

_“I told you not to do illegal things, Mingyu!”_

“I’m not doing not doing anything illegal,” Mingyu shakes his head, “we’re actually pretty close, he’s uh, he’s my boyfriend now, I guess.”

Seungcheol goes silent, staring at Mingyu like he grew a second head. But then he jumps in his seat, startling Mingyu and pointing at him with an accusing finger.

_“Fuck! You’re going at it again, aren’t you?”_

Mingyu freezes.

He doesn’t know what to say, and Seungcheol stares at him with his brows furrowed until he’s fidgeting in discomfort, scratching at his wrist and avoiding the boy’s eyes like the plague.

Seungcheol must’ve read his actions, because he gasps and leans back, _“Oh my god, you are.”_ He shakes his head, and the disapproval in his expression makes Mingyu want to wilt, _“Mingyu, I’m telling you, this isn’t going to work. Even though Minghao withstood everything, I doubt–“_

“Hyung,” Mingyu cuts him off, his tone curt, “it’s different this time.”

_“Different? How? Mingyu, you’re making someone pretend to be your boyfriend to piss your dad off. You’ve done that before and it didn’t work. Why can’t you just let it go?”_

“He needs me too, okay? I’m just trying to help.”

 _“What, you see relationships as charity cases now?”_ Seungcheol frowns, _“You’re letting him use you?”_

Ouch.

Mingyu feels like he’s just been slapped. He’s never had to hear from anyone how terrible his plans were, and having Seungcheol stating what it simply looks like downright hurt because he _knows_ Seungcheol is right.

“He’s not using me,” Mingyu mumbles, “technically hyung; I’m using him as well. So it doesn’t matter.”

Seungcheol frowns, _“Okay, let’s go there, but doesn’t that mean you’re using each other? Isn’t that worse?”_

This shuts Mingyu up, making him lay his head over his folded arms on the table.

_“God, why isn’t Minghao beating your ass right now? You’re doing stupid shit again.”_

“Quit calling me stupid.” Mingyu mumbles into his elbow.

Mingyu regrets answering Seungcheol’s call now, if he knew he was only going to be scolded for his choices then he wouldn’t have said anything; he thought he would see how happy this could make him, he thought he would be happy for him.

He hears a soft ‘sorry’ before Seungcheol comes back to him full force.

_“Where’s Minghao anyway? He isn’t answering any of my calls and I’m worried you actually got him killed this time around.”_

“How should I know?” Mingyu counters, biting his lips to and trying to keep his voice steady, “I can’t call him either, hyung.”

 _“Kim Mingyu,”_ Seungcheol crosses his arms over his chest, _“your brows are raising and you won’t even look at me, it’s obvious you’re lying. Tell me the truth.”_

Mingyu purses his lips.

Seungcheol wasn’t having it.

_“Now.”_

“Fine!” Mingyu almost shouts, trying to come up with something believable enough to appease the older, “He’s working on my thesis…”

_I told him to keep off the radar for a few weeks._

_“He’s what?!”_ Seungcheol says, _“Mingyu, why are you making_ him _do_ your _thesis? He’s not even in a business course!”_

“Yeah but he’s still better at business than I am. Look at him, he owns a coffee shop and runs it on his own!”

 _“What the hell, Gyu.”_ Seungcheol scratches his head, _“That still doesn’t explain why he won’t answer my calls though.”_

“He probably wants to finish it quickly,” Mingyu shrugs, “I don’t know, he’s focusing, I guess.”

 _“Seriously, what the fuck,”_ Seungcheol runs a hand through his hair, _“if I made Jihoon do my thesis he’d have my head on a stick… I can’t believe you.”_

Mingyu smiles, “I have my ways.”

 _“Yeah you do, you fucking demon.”_ Seungcheol shakes his head at him with a smile, but the smile fades and is replaced with a concerned expression, _“But that thing I told you, you shouldn’t get carried away with the guy. Clearly your attachments are too shallow to be serious, right? Don’t let him abuse you.”_  

Mingyu shakes his head.

 _Too shallow to be serious,_ yeah right, Mingyu wishes that was the case too.

But clearly he’s too far gone now.

“He’s not like that,” Mingyu says quietly, and Seungcheol’s eyes soften at his determined little voice. “Wonwoo’s different.”

 _“So that’s his name.”_ Seungcheol chuckles, before his tone goes serious and he’s addressing Mingyu with an almost fatherly look, _“I sure hope he is, Gyu. Just be careful.”_

 

Mingyu wakes up to his phone buzzing on his bedside table, smiling at the image that greets him when he unlocks it.

But his smile promptly drops when he opens his messages, seeing a confirmation message from the bank. Wonwoo just withdrew some money from his account.

Mingyu clicks the confirmation link and presses ‘yes’ when it loads, locking his phone and throwing it somewhere on his bed right after.

He lies back down with a groan and presses his palms to his eyes, sighing heavily into the pastel morning that turns into patterns of saturated paisley when he pulls his palms down.

He stares at his ceiling, Seungcheol’s words from last night echoing through his head.

_Doesn’t that mean you’re using each other?_

It would’ve been correct, but Seungcheol got one detail wrong: Mingyu didn’t really see Wonwoo as someone to use against his father anymore. He realized a few days ago that his part of their deal doesn’t really matter, shouldn’t have to matter, especially not when he gets to see Wonwoo’s genuine happiness in the little moments they spend together.

But then Wonwoo’s reason for finally agreeing resurfaces, a vestige of a sunken boat deciding to show itself at the most appropriate moment.

_I realized it was a pretty good deal._

Mingyu runs around the thought over and over again, going through a hundred possible meanings to what Wonwoo said and most of them end up lodging themselves in his throat and choking him with the thought that none of this is ever going to be real.

Maybe Seungcheol was right. And Mingyu’s terrified that he’s only right about one thing.

He really, _really,_ hopes he isn’t.

 

* * *

 

Wonwoo talked to his dad last night.

He sounded healthier, happier, and Wonwoo could feel his heart grow in his chest because he knows that he’s finally getting the proper treatment and medication for his condition.

So Wonwoo’s extra energized for his mid-day Tuesday shift, using the memory of the sound of his dad’s laughter echoing through the phone as fuel to go through order after order perfectly.

By the time his break comes, there’s a scarcity of people in the café , allowing Wonwoo to take his time and cool down with a book while digging into his éclair.

Seungkwan mans the cash register while he eats, humming old trot songs while tapping his fingers on the counter, the absence of customers obviously boring him.

Meanwhile, Wonwoo finds ease in the newfound quiet of the place, reading his book amidst the peaceful ambience and chewing his food noiselessly.

The bell on the door rings, signaling that a customer has gone inside.

Wonwoo doesn’t pay any mind to it, figuring that Seungkwan can handle it himself.

“Uh, hyung?”

Wonwoo takes another bite at his éclair before humming to let Seungkwan know he’s listening without looking up from his book.

“Hyung, I think you’d want to take this.” Seungkwan says.

Wonwoo’s brows furrow, “But it’s my break–“

“Hi, hyung.”

Wonwoo almost gets whiplash from how fast he looks up upon hearing the voice, eyes widening when he sees Mingyu smiling at him while leaning over the counter.

“Hi.” Wonwoo breathes.

“I told you.” Seungkwan mumbles, moving aside when Wonwoo walks over to the counter.

“Are you on break?” Mingyu asks. There’s a beanie on his head and his nose is kind of pink and he looks adorable but Wonwoo won’t say that out loud.

“Obviously,” Wonwoo snickers, “What brings you here?”

“I actually wanted to pick you up.”

“What?” Wonwoo blinks, scratching his nose and fixing his glasses, “Well my shift ends in a few hours so you should’ve come then.”

Mingyu nods, but he doesn’t say another word. Instead he stares at Wonwoo like they haven’t seen each other in weeks when in fact they saw each other just yesterday.

“Should I make a cup of Americano for you?”

Mingyu shakes his head, leaning closer until he’s almost face to face with Wonwoo.

Wonwoo’s eyes widen, hyperaware of their proximity and the mole on Mingyu’s cheeks, his heart rate picking up and making it hard to breathe.

_He’s too close._

“Would you get mad if I asked you to jump over this counter and run away with me?”

Wonwoo looks into the younger’s eyes, seeing nothing but mischief and determination, it makes him gulp.

“I won’t get mad at you,” Wonwoo says, backing away slowly, “but I won’t do it.”

“C’mon, I’m trying to be romantic here.”

“And I’m trying to keep my bones from being broken.” Mingyu leans even closer, Wonwoo steps back even further, “Mingyu, stop it.”

The storage room opens, startling Wonwoo and almost making him jump into Mingyu’s arms, the younger boy laughing at his reaction while Jeonghan stares curiously at the both of them.

“What are you two doing?” Jeonghan asks, his brow rising in question while he closes the storage room gently.

“We’re just talking, sir.”

“Hyung, can I borrow Wonwoo today?”

The two of them say at the same time. Wonwoo turns to Mingyu and takes a moment to process his request. Mingyu turns to him and gives him a wink.

Wonwoo’s lost count of how many times his brain has short-circuited in Mingyu’s presence.

It’s ridiculous, how Mingyu can just walk into any place and have his way with the people in it. Wonwoo watches carefully to see if Mingyu has any effect on Jeonghan as well, and the way his glare isn’t anywhere near threatening tells Wonwoo that he does.

Though he still doesn’t know if he can leave; knowing that Seungkwan’s already heaving protests of being left to fend for himself for the rest of their shift behind Jeonghan.

“Mingyu,” Jeonghan says, “you promised.”

“Please, hyung? Just this once.”

Mingyu raises his pointer finger while looking at Jeonghan with pleading eyes and Wonwoo can only gape at what he’s doing. He wonders if this was how Mingyu really is when he’s comfortable with you: childish and playful and downright demanding; such a deviation from the stoic demeanor he gives off upon first meeting.

Wonwoo’s heart swells in his chest.

Jeonghan squints at Mingyu’s antics, “Mingyu.”

“Please?” Mingyu pleads even harder, and the eldest just closes his eyes and sighs, waving his hand towards the door.

Wonwoo’s too dazed by the boys’ interactions to register the fact that Mingyu moved into their work station, only realizing it when Mingyu grabs a hold of him and tries to pull him out of there.

”Wait! My apron!”

Wonwoo quickly removes his apron and throws it to Jeonghan’s general direction, but it unravels and falls flat over Seungkwan’s head where he’s pouting behind him.

Jeonghan laughs at the boy, and Wonwoo could barely mutter an apology before he’s dragged out by his wrists.

Once they’re outside the café, Wonwoo stares at where Mingyu’s fingers meet his skin; his golden tan a stark contrast to how pale Wonwoo is, with his wrist so thin Mingyu could easily wrap his fingers around them, the leather coat shielding Mingyu from the cold is imposing and antipodal to the frayed wool sweater Wonwoo’s wearing.

There’s something about them, something about how Wonwoo is the total opposite of Mingyu at almost any aspect: his skin, his build, the way he talks and thinks, and even the state of his living; and most of the time Wonwoo questions why he even bothered to associate himself with someone who can only put into perspective how much shit his life is. But somehow, just one look at the boy reminds him that he’s still human, that no matter how out of reach he may seem he’s still here and holding Wonwoo’s wrist with a firm grip and smiling at him while they jog to his car.

It makes him dizzy, the snow clinging to his eyelashes and blurring the world around him, softening the edges of Mingyu’s already soft smile; and although everything’s a little too fast for him sometimes, Wonwoo’s glad to have him here.

“Hyung, you can wear my coat inside the car, you’ll freeze otherwise!”

Wonwoo snaps out of his thoughts, Mingyu’s voice moving against the sound of traffic and opening car doors but reaching Wonwoo nonetheless.

Mingyu waits for him to get inside the car before moving around and getting in himself, flashing Wonwoo a toothy smile then taking his coat from where it’s hanging on the safety handles of the back seat, handing it to Wonwoo before driving off.

Later, when they get out of the car, Mingyu would immediately say _‘It’s yours’_ and walk away, leaving Wonwoo, with his mouth agape and another coat in his collection, to chase after him with a loud, _‘Wait up, punk!’_

 

Turns out Mingyu just wanted to go shopping for some things and didn’t want to go alone, telling Wonwoo that he’s the best person to bring with him because he wouldn’t be biased with Mingyu’s clothing choices.

But Wonwoo honest to God thinks he only brought him to buy matching _everything_ with him, looking for his approval on things that he would prefer so he can buy one for him as well.

So far, Wonwoo has protested about this five times and only got to stop him once, and that once was from a bag that was fucking _Valentino_ which he caught Wonwoo admiring because it was _beautiful,_ but it was extremely high-end and the moment Mingyu told him the he’d buy it for him he’s already begging him to stop because ‘ _holy shit I won’t allow you to spend a thousand dollars for a bag, please!’_. The other four times Wonwoo couldn’t have said no because Mingyu already walked away the moment he gave his approval.

So now they have matching tracksuits and pajamas and phone cases and even green and purple earmuffs that Wonwoo’s sure he’d never use but Mingyu laughed so hard at how ridiculous it looked on the both of them so he bought it.

And seeing that side of Mingyu, that carefree, childish side that only appears when he allows it to, knowing that Wonwoo’s one of the few people he’s let close to that side makes him feel, well, _light_ , like it usually does. Finding out Mingyu loves food, finding out he gets cold easily, finding out he drinks frappucinos even in the winter when he’s stressed –all of this, being allowed to know all of this makes Wonwoo feel light, like none of his problems are real and only these few facts are, like Mingyu employed himself to be the center of Jeon Wonwoo’s universe and Jeon Wonwoo didn’t even put up a fight against it.

Mingyu laughs again, this time at a stuffed tabby with glasses on, and shows it to Wonwoo, telling him that it looks like him, and Wonwoo smiles.

For the first time in quite a while, Wonwoo feels _happy._

 

Currently they’re in another clothing store, Wonwoo seated patiently while Mingyu takes a look around.

 Wonwoo observes the racks and sees things that he normally wouldn’t wear; being a t-shirt-denim-pants type of guy, seeing all the button-down shirts with eccentric patterns hung around him makes him feel a bit out of his element. He can’t quite understand how Mingyu would find anything he’d be comfortable to wear in here; but then again, he and Mingyu have different tastes.

“Hyung,” Wonwoo hears his voice before he sees him, but when he does his eyes widen at the sight, “how do I look?”

He’s wearing a fur scarf that makes him look like Cruella de Vil dyed pink and huge sunglasses on his head, and Wonwoo tries to swallow down what seems to be a string of never-ending laughter bubbling up his throat, but then Mingyu pulls the sunglasses down and blows a kiss at him.

Wonwoo loses his shit.

His deep rumbling laughter echoes through the boutique, like thunder during a quiet night, keeping his eyes on Mingyu as he continues with his antics, carelessly parading the absurd clothing, making Wonwoo laugh until he’s holding his stomach, until he feels nothing but incredibly blithe.

Mingyu does it again, and this time with a sashay and a little twist of the scarf that has Wonwoo clapping his hands at him, his laughter having gone silent with how heavy it’s gotten. Mingyu smiles at him and it’s only when Wonwoo catches himself smiling back like a dumbass at Mingyu’s shenanigans does it occur to him that the unexpected is happening.

Mingyu’s growing on him, and it’s at a pace faster than what he’s prepared to deal with.

It makes him stop in his tracks, just in time for a saleswoman to walk over towards the both of them and kindly ask them to leave because their boisterous behavior is causing a disturbance to the other customers.

Mingyu’s still laughing when he walks back to Wonwoo after returning the items to the lady, but Wonwoo’s so surprised by his realization that he finds himself unable to return the laughter, silently standing and walking out the store with a blank look on his face.

 

A few minutes and a lot of thoughts later, Wonwoo feels a little better and is walking with Mingyu towards the parking lot, Mingyu admitting that he only went into that clothing store earlier because the scarf caught his eye and he thought it’d be hilarious to try it on.

“I don’t even know why they sell those things, they’re _atrocious_.” Mingyu shakes his head.

“Big word there, Mr. Kim.”

Mingyu shrugs in a kind of ‘ _what can I say?’_ move, and Wonwoo pushes him away by the shoulder.

Wonwoo doesn’t know how long he can pretend to be comfortable with Mingyu. It feels wrong for him to, to have these _feelings_ bloom inside of him while the boy unknowingly waters and helps them grow by doing even the smallest things.

Wonwoo shakes his head, trying to focus on the weight of the shopping bags in his hands instead, holding on to them tighter in order to avoid noticing the boy beside him.

“Do you think I could hold your hand?”

But there it goes, all of his effort to ignore Mingyu flying out of the window with a small request.

Wonwoo thinks it’s counterproductive, actually, how they’re already carrying so many things yet Mingyu still wants to hold his hand, but Wonwoo sees a light in Mingyu’s eyes that’s slowly dying out the longer he takes to make his decision, and he doesn’t know what to make of it so he nonchalantly holds his palms up, allowing Mingyu to place his own over it.

They walk a few steps like that: his hand clasped in Mingyu’s large ones, but Wonwoo finds himself wanting more, wanting _closer._

Mustering up all his courage, Wonwoo spreads his hand to lace their fingers together.

Mingyu spares a surprised glance at him, and Wonwoo pretends not to notice it as he bites his lip and turns away. He knows he’s blushing, a full red rose blooming from within his chest up to his neck and cheeks, its roots originating from where Mingyu’s grip tightens so gradually you wouldn’t be able to feel it if you weren’t paying attention; but if all Wonwoo has are coins, he’s paid every single one of them to his attention on Mingyu.

 

They were driving back home after an _interesting_ dinner when Mingyu decides to say, “I wish we didn’t eat there.”

“It was your choice anyway.” Wonwoo chuckles at the younger’s confession, finally admitting that he didn’t like the food at the restaurant he saw from a food bloggers website after insisting earlier that it was _good._

Wonwoo knew what _good_ seolleongtang looks like, and the photo he showed him was definitely not _it._

The food ended up being too salty and the look on Mingyu’s face was _thisclose_ to complaining but Wonwoo immediately glared at him.

No use in being whiny when you already put what they cooked in your mouth.

“We should’ve just eaten some instant ramyun.”

“Speaking of ramyun,” Wonwoo says, “There’s this ramen place that I really love, it’s near my apartment and is run by this ahjussi and his daughter, they’re really nice.”

“Yeah? You should take me sometime.”

“What?” Wonwoo quips, feeling shy with the invitation since the place he just mentioned is really small and old-fashioned, he hardly thinks Mingyu would like it there, “No, uhm, I don’t think it’d… be your style…”

Mingyu chuckles, “Nah, hyung. I trust your taste.”

Wonwoo chuckles weakly and leans on the car window, passing streetlight after streetlight and feeling gutted at the fact that Mingyu just used the word _trust_ on him; given, they were only talking about food, but Wonwoo thinks that sometimes trust is even heavier than love.

Because love can be mended once it’s broken, like a gash on the skin that leaves a scar but still heals. But trust? Trust is a mirror where you can see yourself in the other person and not feel bad about it, and once it breaks it leaves you feeling ugly and scatters a thousand shards of glass that will cut you open once you touch them.

And Wonwoo isn’t sure if it’s right for Mingyu to trust him.

 

“Hyung.”

Wonwoo stirs, blinking blearily at the sound of Mingyu’s voice. There’s an engine running, and a light pressure across his chest where the seatbelt is, and he deduces that he’s in Mingyu’s car.

“You’re home.”

Wonwoo yawns, rubbing his yes underneath his glasses, “Sorry I fell asleep.”

“It’s fine, you were tired.”

Mingyu says so softly, as if he was slowly easing him into consciousness. Wonwoo can feel the blood rush to his cheeks at the thought.

“Hey, don’t forget your stuff.”

Mingyu quickly unbuckles his seatbelt, reaching to the backseat with his long arms to take the paper bags and gives them to Wonwoo, who takes them in his hands and fixes his glasses before pushing the door open.

“Wait, here, let me help you.” Mingyu says, quickly getting out of the car and moving to Wonwoo’s side. He must’ve sensed how disoriented he still was, taking the paper bags from him again and walking with him to the door.

Mingyu puts down the bags beside Wonwoo, standing in front of him and looking into his eyes.

Wonwoo wants to push him away, wants to tell him to go home. But how could he? He’s been so nice to him today; Mingyu doesn’t deserve to be told off like that.

So Wonwoo endures the way his heart almost beats out of his chest in its want to get to Mingyu.

“Are you okay?” Mingyu asks, peering down at him in worry.

“Yeah, I’m just,” _starting to think I like you_ “tired.”

“Get some sleep.” Mingyu pauses, his hand hovering beside him like he wants to reach out and hold Wonwoo’s own, but it doesn’t move any further, “Today was really fun.”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo tries to smile, but it probably looks like a grimace more than anything, “yeah it was.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

“Goodnight, hyung.”

“Goodnight.”

Mingyu smiles a small smile at him again, before turning around and walking down the steps.

“Mingyu,” Wonwoo calls out, making him turn around, car keys in hand, an expectant look in his face.

Wonwoo takes a deep breath. He can hear his blood rushing in his ears and his heart settling heavily in his stomach, everything he wants to say hanging at the tip of his tongue and tasting like bile and salted tears. He doesn’t think he can say anything helpful, so he settles with a close lipped smile.

“Drive safe.”

“Okay.”

Wonwoo watches Mingyu until he gets into his car, taking all the paper bags into his hand and sneaking one last look at him before unlocking the apartment door quickly, shuffling inside and pressing his back to it. Wonwoo hears Mingyu’s car drive off and it’s followed by the sound of paper bags dropping to the floor, echoing in the empty apartment hallway.

He tries to steady his breathing, tries to weave past the guilt and the pain in his chest because _this is just a deal._ One day Mingyu’s going to take him to his parents’ house and he’ll brag about Wonwoo to his father and then it’ll all be over.

And although it is his job to pretend to be his boyfriend, it isn’t appropriate for him to hope he’d mean anything to Mingyu. He can’t get too comfortable, can’t familiarize himself in the comfort that is Mingyu’s side, can’t build his home around him and in him just to watch it burn down in flames when he says “You’re no longer needed.”

He needs to guard his heart before the time comes and Mingyu disappears right before his eyes just like how Junhui did. Because he doesn’t know how he’d deal with it this time around.

Wonwoo curls in on himself, alone and overthinking in the darkness of their apartment hallway.

He feels the first frustrated teardrop land on his knee. And doesn’t dare pinpoint where the next ones land.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this ended up being longer than expected lmao tell me what you think!!! ily 
> 
> (sidenote: junhui has been gone for a record of 71 days up to this point, y'all think wonwoo misses him?)

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this is chyl and i just want to say thank you for taking your time to read my work!
> 
> kudos and comments are greatly appreciated, even criticism as long as it's constructive, and i hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it!!! 
> 
> reach me here:  
> cc: [shibamingyu](https://curiouscat.me/shibamingyu)  
> twt: [shiba_mingyu](https://twitter.com/shiba_mingyu)


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